


Here Comes The Sun

by flowerfan



Series: Here Comes The Sun [1]
Category: Glee
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Future Fic, Hurt/Comfort, Klaine, M/M, Reunion, blam friendship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-16
Updated: 2014-04-21
Packaged: 2018-01-12 17:49:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 35
Words: 106,816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1194096
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flowerfan/pseuds/flowerfan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU after 5x02.  When the New Directions’ bus crashes before Nationals, Finn is killed and Blaine is badly injured. Grieving and damaged, Kurt and Blaine call off their engagement.  This story takes place two years after the tragedy, when Kurt and Blaine run into each other in New York City.  Klaine; Blam friendship.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The first chapter is all Kurt, but Klaine is coming, as is Blam!friendship.  
> Warnings for major character death (Finn), discussion of depression, injuries.

Kurt gave his dad a quick kiss on the cheek and promised he’d be back later, grabbing his messenger bag off the wobbly plastic chair that served as décor in the bleak room. He didn’t like leaving his dad in the hospital by himself, but the doctors had assured him that Burt was doing fine now, and Kurt really needed to go home and shower.

The past week had been even harder than they had anticipated. It was the two year anniversary of Finn’s death, and Burt had come to New York City to spend some time with Kurt. A few days had turned into a week when Burt had chest pains, landing him in the hospital. Kurt felt like “emotional rollercoaster” didn’t even cover the intensity of his feelings over the past few days – it was more like some kind of evil pain whiplash, buffeted with the grief he felt for Finn and the fear about his dad’s health all at the same time. To make it worse, the doctors kept finding more things they wanted to test for – just as his dad proved he wasn’t dying by one measure, they decided to poke and prod him some other way. Kurt wrote everything down in his notebook, and then surreptitiously googled everything when his dad was resting. It looked like the gauntlet of tests was done for now, however, and they could both relax. Wouldn’t that be nice, for a change.

Luckily Kurt had finished his final exams just before his dad’s visit, and his summer class didn’t start for another week, so at least he didn’t have to worry about school right now. Because Kurt had started at NYADA mid-year, he had been taking some extra courses to catch up to the rest of his class. He had just one more course to make up this summer, and then, if all went well, in a year he’d be a college graduate. Not that it seemed particularly significant at the moment. Having a degree from NYADA didn’t mean much if he wasn’t going to devote himself full time to acting, and he was starting to think that he might not. 

Kurt still loved to perform, but he wasn’t sure if he wanted a Broadway career. The cutthroat attitude of so many of his peers no longer motivated him the way it used to. It wasn’t as if he couldn’t get parts – he had had a nice run in the chorus of The Book of Mormon for a season, and he could tell that with a little more experience, he had a good chance at larger roles, too. But the reality of it just wasn’t what he thought it would be. Kurt still believed that there was value in being an entertainer, both personally and for the rest of the world, but he was beginning to understand that there could be value in other endeavors as well, ones that might leave a little more time for him to spend with his dad, and do other things that fueled him. He was also getting tired of constantly being judged. Even if he was coming out on top more often than not, so many great performers had to lose in order for him to win. The day in, day out competition was draining. 

Kurt glanced at his watch as he left the hospital. He had time for a quick call to his therapist when he got home. He had been seeing Tessa every Tuesday for almost a year, and he hated to miss a session. At first he had resisted seeing anyone, even when Blaine’s mom had begged them both to get counseling after the accident. But when the first anniversary of Finn’s death had passed and Kurt still felt like he was living in a fog, he finally gave it a try, and it had made a world of difference. Not that his life was perfect, by any means. He was lonely sometimes, but it seemed like a normal level of lonely. Definitely manageable. 

Kurt wondered if it would have helped him and Blaine, if they had seen someone back then. He felt that wave of guilt that always accompanied thinking about their break-up – their second break-up, when they called off the engagement. He could picture it so clearly: Blaine in bed, angry and frustrated at his body, still broken after months of painful rehab; Kurt grieving for Finn and sick with worry for Blaine, his dad and Carole; both of them so very, very tired. No amount of counseling could have fixed Blaine’s shattered leg, or changed the fact that he was stuck in Ohio indefinitely, while Kurt was still at NYADA, trying to deal with all of his family’s hurt and pain long distance.

If only New Directions hadn’t gone to that stupid invitational, Kurt thought for the millionth time. In the lead-up to Nationals, the group had been invited to perform at a showcase in Columbus. On the way home, one of the bus’s tires burst, sending the bus careening across the road and into oncoming traffic. Finn had been thrown through a window, killed instantly. Aside from Blaine and Kitty, the other New Directions had suffered only cuts and bruises, and broken bones that healed in the regular course. But Kitty had struck her head hard in the crash, resulting in a serious injury from which she had yet to fully recover. 

And then there was Blaine. At first all Kurt heard was “broken leg.” No big deal, right? Broken bones heal. And with Finn’s death, he had a lot to take in those first few weeks, which seemed in retrospect to be mostly filled with his dad and Carole, and a funeral attended by dozens of people who couldn’t stop crying and invading his personal space as if a hug from a stranger could make any difference at all. Blaine hadn’t come to the funeral, of course. He was probably having surgery that day, or recovering from surgery, or being prepped for surgery. That’s how it had seemed at the time, and although Kurt knew with every bone in his body that it was illogical, he had resented Blaine for not being there for him. 

During those first few weeks, when Kurt tried to visit Blaine in the hospital, everything seemed crazy. Blaine’s parents were everywhere, always in the room, never giving them any time to themselves. His mom always looked like she was about to dissolve, and Kurt didn’t know how to talk to her. Blaine seemed numb, and most of the time he was so out of it on painkillers that he couldn’t carry on a conversation anyway. Even Cooper was underfoot, looking like he was rehearsing for a particularly grim procedural, stomping down the hospital hallways and insisting on making a scene if he couldn’t get a doctor’s attention.

It really wasn’t until weeks after the funeral that Kurt realized the full extent of Blaine’s injuries. He was on the phone with his dad, who was making plans to come to visit him in New York, when Kurt asked if Burt could bring Blaine along with him. Kurt could tell right away from Burt’s silence that he had said something wrong, but he didn’t know what it was. The gentle tone of his father’s voice that day (“Kiddo, I don’t think you understand what kind of shape Blaine’s in…”) couldn’t wash away the fear that his message brought, or the shame he felt at having been so oblivious. Maybe he was still in shock, like his dad said, but Kurt couldn’t help feeling horrible.

He tried harder, then, to connect with Blaine, and for a while it worked. They texted back and forth more, and skyped when Blaine felt up to it. When NYADA ended in June, Kurt came home to Lima for the summer, working in his dad’s shop and visiting Blaine almost every evening. Blaine’s right leg was badly broken, shattered in several places, and his right hip was damaged as well. The surgery that was supposed to make such a difference in July didn’t go well, and another one had to be scheduled for the end of the summer. It was at that point that they realized that there was no way Blaine was going to start at NYU in the fall, and that Kurt would be returning to New York without him. Try as they might, it all went downhill from there. When Kurt visited Blaine at Thanksgiving, he was still at a rehab center, still not able to use his leg properly, still in pain, and exhausted with the disappointment of it all. They called the break up a mutual decision, both of them so near to drowning in unhappiness that they couldn’t see any way through. It was painful, but so was everything else in Kurt’s life. At the time, the pain almost felt right; Finn would never have anyone, and now neither would he.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> AU after 5x02. When the New Directions’ bus crashes before Nationals, Finn is killed and Blaine is badly injured. Grieving and damaged, Kurt and Blaine call off their engagement. Two years after the tragedy, they run into each other in New York City. Klaine; Blam friendship.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for major character death (Finn), discussion of depression, injuries.  
> The chapters are short, but this will be updated every day.

Kurt spent a pleasant afternoon with his dad, who said he was feeling better than he had in weeks. The doctors had adjusted his medication, and whether it was that or the knowledge that he hadn’t actually had another heart attack, something was definitely lifting his mood. After a dinner of bland hospital food topped off with a container of fresh strawberries Kurt had bought on the way over, Burt convinced Kurt to leave him alone for the night. “It’s a beautiful summer evening, Kurt. Get out and smell the flowers,” he joked, knowing New York’s odor generally did not improve with the hot weather.

Kurt realized he had made a wrong turn in the maze that was the hospital’s hallways when he noticed brightly colored cartoon characters and glittery flower drawings decorating patient doors. Seeing children in hospitals always made him sad, but it looked like this place was doing its best to relieve the drabness of institutional style. He was headed toward what seemed to be a reception desk to ask for directions when the sound of a guitar caught his attention. A group of young patients were gathered in a cheerful playroom, obviously excited about what was going on. Kurt paused to watch them through the wide glass windows, trying not to flinch at the oxygen tubes and bare heads of the children. As the song began, Kurt froze. He would know that clear tenor voice anywhere. 

The children started clapping along to the words, swaying left and right, and Kurt spotted Blaine, sandwiched on the floor between a tiny blond girl with her arm in a cast and a little boy with Batman pajamas. Blaine looked good, Kurt thought. Dreamy as ever, he heard his sixteen year old self saying to Rachel. Years had passed since that day in the Lima Bean, but Blaine was still so handsome, it hurt his chest to look at him. No one would ever strike him the way that Blaine did. His hair was free of the gel helmet he had adopted in high school, but his curls were cut relatively short, not wild and long like he let them grow in the months after the accident. Blaine was shining, like he had soaked up the sun, free from the worry and pain that had marked his face the last time Kurt saw him. And as always, the music seemed to spill right out of him, spreading Blaine’s particular brand of joy to everyone within earshot.

Blaine was deliberately looking around the room, trying to engage each of the children as he sang, when his gaze fell on Kurt. Kurt could see the moment he recognized him, the brief look of panic in his wide eyes, replaced almost immediately by something hopeful. That, in particular, was a look Kurt hadn’t seen on Blaine’s face in a very long time. 

If the children noticed the rather abrupt end to the song, they didn’t seem to mind. Blaine tried to meet Kurt’s eyes again as he handed his guitar to the older child sitting next to him, and Kurt knew that the right thing to do was to go in and talk to him. He was an adult, and he could handle this like an adult. So what if it had been over a year since he had last spoken to Blaine, and if it hurt his heart to think of what they had lost. Despite Kurt’s better judgment, however, his nerves took over, and before he fully realized what he was doing, he was walking rapidly away down the hallway. 

“Kurt!” He heard Blaine call after him. “Please, Kurt. I can’t chase you.”

Kurt stopped, Blaine’s words paralyzing him. Could he be more of an asshole, he wondered, literally running away from a man who couldn’t walk. Kurt turned to see Blaine standing in the doorway of the playroom, one hand on the doorframe, the other reaching out towards Kurt. Kurt was momentarily distracted by the memory of this boy at his junior prom, gorgeous in his classic tux and movie star hair, bravely offering his hand to Kurt on the dance floor. 

He walked back towards Blaine, wondering if everyone around them could hear his heart pounding. At least he was already in the hospital, if he had a heart attack. “Hi,” he said pointlessly. “I didn’t expect to see you here.” I’m sorry I’m such an idiot, he said to himself. Tell me you don’t hate me.

“Me neither. I mean, I didn’t expect to see you,” Blaine babbled. “Are you okay?”

Kurt thought it was pretty bold of Blaine to start right off with that, and almost starting talking about Tessa and therapy and meditation, but then realized Blaine must be wondering why he was at the hospital. “I’m fine. I’m here with my dad,” and then, as Blaine started to look worried, “but he’s fine too. He was visiting me and had chest pains, but it wasn’t anything serious.”

“That’s really good.” Blaine nodded, looking down at his feet. “I’m playing for the kids – I guess you could tell.”

“Yeah.” Kurt took a deep breath, then let it out, trying to get some control over his trembling body. “You sounded good.”

Blaine blushed. “Thanks.”

“And you’re, well, upright,” Kurt said, moving closer to Blaine, trying not to stare at his leg, which seemed to look pretty normal, encased in a particularly flattering pair of tight red pants. Focus, Kurt, he told himself. Now is not the time for this.

Blaine laughed softly. “It’s true, being upright is now one of my defining qualities. Who knew how much I’d miss it.” He ran a hand through his hair, looking shyly at Kurt. “I’m still using a cane most of the time, but it’s a lot better.” 

“That’s great,” Kurt said, meeting Blaine’s eyes, wanting to lose himself in them, now that they were really looking back at him. “Really great.”

Blaine let go of the doorway and took a few small steps towards Kurt, limping just a little. “See? Big difference from being stuck in a chair, right?”

Kurt’s heart fluttered at how Blaine was showing off for him. “I’m so proud of you,” he stuttered out, embarrassed at how hard it was to say the words. “You must have worked so hard.” 

Blaine smiled at the praise, but before he could reply, one of the aides who had been in the playroom with the kids came out and looked at Blaine inquiringly. Clearly he was supposed to be entertaining the children, not gossiping in the corridor. Did she really have to cut them off right now? Kurt was still petrified, but he didn’t want this to end. He wanted more of Blaine. He didn’t know if he deserved it, if he was entitled to do this again. And he couldn’t tell if Blaine wanted more of him. Kurt couldn’t hurt him again, he just couldn’t. He couldn’t bring them back there, to that awful place they had found themselves in, where neither of them had the energy to reach past their own pain. 

“Kurt, I’m sorry, I have to go back in,” Blaine apologized, his good manners still firmly in place. “It was good to see you,” he said politely, turning away. Kurt caught a hint of sadness in his voice, though, and it was enough to make up his mind.

“Wait,” Kurt blurted out. Blaine turned back around, his hand on the wall for support. “Is, um, is your number still the same?”

“Yes,” Blaine said, nodding.

“Can I call you later?”

The smile on Blaine’s face was worth a million awkward moments, Kurt was sure of it. “I’d love that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please let me know what you think! The next chapter will be from Blaine's POV and features Blaine and Sam in their NYC apartment.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> AU after 5x02. When the New Directions’ bus crashes before Nationals, Finn is killed and Blaine is badly injured. Grieving and damaged, Kurt and Blaine call off their engagement. Two years after the tragedy, they run into each other in New York City. Klaine; Blam friendship.
> 
> Warnings for major character death (Finn), discussion of depression, injuries.  
> This chapter is from Blaine’s point of view.

Blaine didn’t remember finishing up his set playing for the children at the hospital, and he didn’t remember saying goodbye to Marie at the nurse’s station. He felt like he was walking on air as he headed home, not noticing for once how people pushed past him, impatient with his slow pace, or how the potholes threatened to trip him up at every crossing. All he could think about was Kurt, who had miraculously popped back into his life.

And despite the fact that it was ridiculous to even contemplate, he let himself daydream for a minute (or twenty) about what it would be like if they got back together. If they could have a fresh start, without the pain and the heartache that had taken them down before. Too bad miracles didn’t happen. There was no way to erase the accident and the misery that had followed. 

Blaine thought back to what happened at the hospital, turning every moment over in his mind. Kurt had looked shocked to see him, but not unhappy. Of course, this was followed by Kurt actually running away – he only came back when Blaine pulled the sympathy card (but it was true, he protested to himself, he couldn’t catch him). And Blaine had been willing to just let it go, to say goodbye and get back to reality, but Kurt had asked if he could call him. Kurt had asked, and said that he would call. Which would be awesome. Even if Kurt just wanted to catch up, like old friends, that would be okay. Not as good as, well, more, but still pretty damn nice. 

No matter what had happened between them, he still missed Kurt. He was doing fine without him, even more than fine lately, but his life certainly hadn’t gone the way he had planned, or the way either of them had planned. Blaine had been so sure that they were soulmates, meant to be together forever. But reality rained on his silly fantasy. He had told himself more than once over the past few years that while Kurt might have been his “teenage dream,” he had conveniently forgotten the meaning of the “dream” part of that phrase – something created by your imagination, the opposite of reality.

Blaine let himself into his empty apartment and eased himself down on the couch, rubbing his right leg. As much as he liked to imagine it, there was no way Kurt was going to want to get involved with him again. Kurt had made it abundantly clear when they broke up that he just couldn’t handle Blaine’s problems as well as those of his family – his dad and Carole, and their loss of Finn. And Blaine understood, mostly. He would never really know how Kurt felt, because he was fortunate enough not to have lost his mother, then his stepbrother, and then find out his dad had cancer. It sounded like the premise of a bad soap opera. Really, no one should have to go through such things. But it had all happened to Kurt, and Blaine had been in such a drug and pain induced stupor that he had done next to nothing to support him. 

Blaine knew Kurt had been in a similar position. Blaine had been in a bad place, his dreams of performing shattered with his leg, the bad news seeming to mount with every failed, painful surgery. Blaine had needed Kurt as much as Kurt had needed him, but Kurt was grieving, and too exhausted with his family’s tragedy and his dad’s illness to be of much help. Blaine figured there wasn’t much point in blaming either of them, it was just something that happened. It hurt like crazy when they decided to end it, but as time passed, Blaine had tried to convince himself that it was all for the best. He knew in his heart of hearts that he would never actually be convinced, but hey, if anyone was the king of “fake it ‘til you make it,” it was Blaine Anderson. 

“Hey dude, what’s up?” Blaine hadn’t even realized Sam had come home until he landed on the couch next to him, causing Blaine to practically bounce off the edge of his seat. “Sorry, man,” Sam laughed easily, grabbing Blaine around the waist and pulling him closer. 

“It’s okay,” Blaine reassured him, resting his head on Sam’s shoulder. 

“I’m wiped,” Sam exclaimed, tilting his head back against the couch dramatically. “Every single person at the gym tonight just had to ask me a question. The same dumb questions over and over again. How hard can it be to adjust the weights? There are little signs all over the place, why do they need to ask me?” Sam complained.

“Um, because they want your attention?” Blaine suggested. Sam’s part-time job at a nearby gym was a constant source of amusement to Blaine. He especially liked to go work out when Sam was stationed in the weight room – not only could he get Sam to spot him, but he got to watch a large majority of the gym’s patrons drool over his hunky roommate.

“Whatever.” Sam stood up and held a hand out to Blaine. “Are you hungry? I was thinking about omelets.”

Blaine let Sam tug him off the couch and lead him into their tiny kitchen, which was just steps away from the couch anyway. “Sure.” His thoughts kept returning to his encounter with Kurt as Sam launched into a detailed story about two gym members who got into an argument about the water in the water cooler. Apparently they were very concerned about whether the water was from New Jersey or Vermont.

Sam was cutting the tomato and cheese omelet and sliding half of it onto Blaine’s plate when Blaine made up his mind. “Sam, can I talk to you about something?” 

Sam just looked at Blaine and grinned. “I knew you’d get around to it eventually.”

“What?”

“You had that look on your face, you know, the one where you’re worrying something back and forth, but you’re not ready to spit it out yet. I knew if I just kept on babbling long enough you’d tell me when you were ready.”

Blaine considered, not for the first time, how lucky he was to have Sam as a friend. “You know me so well,” he said, smiling.

“I do,” Sam said, smiling back. “Blam!” he exclaimed, as Blaine met his hand for a high five.

“That never gets old, does it,” Blaine commented dryly.

“Nope, and it never will.” Sam cut a piece of his omelet and turned back to Blaine, a tomato dangling perilously from his fork. “Now, tell me what’s got you all worked up.”

“You’ll never guess who I saw at the hospital today when I was playing for the kids.”

“Probably not. Do you want me to try? We could play twenty questions…”

“Dork.” Blaine decided to just spit it out, as Sam suggested, but before he could, Sam interrupted.

“You saw Kurt, didn’t you?”

“Yes – how did you know?”

“Lucky guess.” But Sam didn’t look like he felt lucky.

“It’s okay, Sam. We just talked for a few minutes, it’s no big deal.”

“I just don’t want you to get hurt again, B. That’s all.” Sam looked away and fidgeted with his water glass. “Next thing you know you’ll be imagining getting back together, and planning another proposal.” When Blaine blushed in response, Sam nodded. “See? Like you said, I know you. And for better or worse, I know Kurt too. You already broke up twice, what makes you think it could work this time?”

“Third time’s a charm?” Blaine said lightly. Sam was protective of him, he knew, and he loved him for it. But he had no idea if anything was going to happen between him and Kurt now. Maybe that’s what Sam was worried about. “Sam, I doubt anything will come of this. But I still miss him, I can’t help it. It’s weird that we haven’t talked in so long. It can’t be a bad thing to reconnect. Maybe Kurt and I can just be friends.”

“You forget, I know how that went last time too,” Sam said, shaking his head.

“I know you don’t want to have to deal with me if things go badly,” Blaine began.

“Deal with you?” Sam rarely got angry with Blaine, but he was getting close. “That is so not the issue! After you guys broke off the engagement, you were a frigging ghost! You were fading away! You could barely carry on a conversation. Do you think I spent all that time watching Buffy with you because I thought Spike was cute?”

“No, but you certainly enjoyed watching Buffy kick ass,” Blaine mumbled, trying to cut off Sam’s rant.

“Not the point!” Sam yelled again, standing up and grabbing their plates, barely restraining himself from tossing them violently into the sink. Blaine pushed himself to his feet and moved over to Sam, placing a hand on his back as Sam pointedly stared at the faucet. After a minute Sam took a deep breath and turned to gaze directly at Blaine. “I never want to see that happen to you again, Blaine. Not because it’s hard for me, but because of how hard it was for you.”

“I know, Sam. I didn’t mean to imply that.” Blaine pulled him into a hug, holding him tightly and rubbing his shoulders. “But how I was back then, that wasn’t Kurt’s fault.” 

“What do you mean?”

Blaine wrapped his hand around Sam’s bicep and gave a tug towards the living room. “Come sit down with me for a minute.”

They settled themselves back on the couch. “You were back in Kentucky with your family for a while after the accident, right?”

“Yeah,” Sam agreed, looking confused.

“And you really didn’t see me for months, not until after Christmas, when you came back to Lima, and Kurt and I had already broken up?”

Sam nodded.

“I was miserable before we broke up, Sam. Completely, utterly, totally miserable. My leg was fucked up beyond belief, my doctor said I might never walk again, and I was in pain all the time – either that or so doped up I could hardly remember my name. My break-up with Kurt was a result of that, at least in part. It didn’t cause it.”

Sam didn’t look convinced. “You want me to believe that you weren’t wrecked about breaking up with Kurt, your soulmate? It didn’t hurt to lose the lighthouse and the artist’s colony all over again?”

“I can’t believe I ever told you about that,” Blaine said, smiling softly at his friend. “You must think I’m such a sap.”

“I know it,” Sam said, smiling. “And I love you for it. I love sweet things, too, remember?”

“I do.” Blaine sighed and bumped Sam’s arm with his fist. “It hurt like hell to break up with Kurt, no question. But that isn’t what made me so depressed after the accident. And I’d like to think that I’m strong enough now, healthy enough, to survive talking to him again.”

Sam gave him a quizzical look. “You sure? Talking with Kurt can be pretty challenging.”

“I’m sure. I think we could probably even risk coffee.” Blaine smiled as Sam laughed. “But, Sam?” Blaine asked, settling against Sam’s side and leaning his head in its accustomed place on Sam’s shoulder. 

“Yeah?”

“Thank you for looking out for me.” 

“That’s what we do, right?” Sam held his hand up, but Blaine’s eyes were closed and he didn’t see it. Blaine snorted as he felt Sam pick up his hand and hold it up, giving him another high five. “Blam,” Sam said quietly, snuggling down next to Blaine and pulling a throw blanket over on top of them. “One episode of Buffy before bed?”

“I thought you didn’t want to watch Buffy,” Blaine mumbled, tucking his feet up under the blanket.

“It’s late and we’re tired. Buffy is perfect. It’s short and funny,” Sam said.

“Don’t you dare….”

“Like you!” Sam crowed.

“Dork.” Blaine closed his eyes and dozed as the theme music for Buffy began. It had been a good day, and the way things were going, he was looking forward to tomorrow.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Seeing you today was both the best and the most frightening thing that’s happened to me in ages._
> 
> AU after 5x02. When the New Directions’ bus crashes before Nationals, Finn is killed and Blaine is badly injured. Grieving and damaged, Kurt and Blaine call off their engagement. Two years after the tragedy, they run into each other in New York City. Klaine; Blam friendship.
> 
> Warnings for past character death (Finn), discussion of depression, injuries.

When Kurt left the hospital that night after seeing Blaine, he had every intention of calling him. He estimated that Blaine probably wouldn’t be playing for the kids for more than an hour, since children didn’t have long attention spans, and these were sick kids anyway, they needed their rest. So maybe an hour for that, and then some time to let Blaine get home – he didn’t know where he lived, but hopefully it wasn’t too far a commute for him – and then he could call him. Two hours, tops, maybe three.

But four hours later Kurt still hadn’t called Blaine. Kurt was curled up in bed, his Bruce pillow resurrected from its box in the closet, and an empty take-out container with the remnants of half a cheesecake by his side. His phone lay in front of him like a bad joke, taunting him with its offer of immediate gratification. He couldn’t call Blaine until he decided what he was going to say, and he just didn’t know what he was going to say. He wasn’t even sure he knew what he wanted to say. All these stupid aphorisms kept popping into his head, but nothing helped. “Dance as if nobody’s watching” just made him think about Blaine not being able to dance anymore. “If you wait until you are ready, you’ll be waiting for the rest of your life,” just made him nervous, because neither option (acting before he was ready, or waiting forever) seemed like a reasonable one. Flailing, Kurt remembered Rachel’s endless idolizing of Barbra Streisand, and the string of Barbra quotes she would chant for good luck. Kurt grabbed his computer and googled Streisand quotes, coming up first with the unhelpful “I am simple, complex, generous, selfish, unattractive, beautiful, lazy, and driven.” Next he found one that showed clearly why Rachel felt so connected to Barbra, even if it didn’t help him in his current situation: “I knew that with a mouth like mine, I just had to be a star or something.” Finally there was one that hit home: “There is nothing more important in life than love.” Kurt used to believe this was true, with every romantic teenage bone in his body. And he still did, but he wasn’t sure that it meant what he used to think it did (and he didn’t need someone to quote The Princess Bride at him to realize it).

It wasn’t a lack of love that had caused his and Blaine’s relationship to fall apart. In some ways, for him, it was love pulling him in too many different directions – the loss of it with Finn’s death, and the fear of losing it with his dad’s illness. Through it all, he still loved Blaine, and he was pretty sure Blaine still loved him. But at the time, faced with Blaine’s injury, his pain, and his hopelessness, Kurt didn’t know what to do. He hadn’t known how to pull Blaine out of his misery, and he didn’t have the emotional resources to figure it out, not at the same time he was trying to deal with how Finn’s death had affected everyone, whether or not his dad was going to die of cancer, and not failing out of NYADA.

Kurt wondered, sometimes, whether he should have quit school and moved back to Lima, to take care of his dad, and be there for Blaine. He had thought about taking a year off, but his dad was firmly against it. To be fair, they had talked about it soon after the accident, when neither of them had known how slow Blaine’s recovery would be, and that he wasn’t going to be able to start at NYU in the fall as planned. When Kurt brought it up with Blaine, Blaine was adamant that Kurt not leave school for him. Kurt remembered Cooper catching him in the hallway after that exchange (which, like so many of their hospital conversations, seemed to be witnessed by one or another of the Anderson clan), asking him what the hell he was doing. When Kurt patiently recounted what seemed to him to be an entirely obvious conversation, Cooper exploded. “Do you really believe for a minute that Blaine would ask you to quit school, no matter how bad he might need you? Do you know him at all?”

Kurt glanced at his alarm clock, hardly surprised that it was after midnight. It was too late to call Blaine now. Kurt pushed away the thought that he had purposefully delayed until it was too late to call. Of course, there had been a time when he could have called Blaine day or night, and Blaine would have picked up (unlike you, the mean voice in his head muttered). In any case, those days were gone, and premeditated or not, it was too late to call.

Kurt hoped Blaine wouldn’t take him not calling the wrong way. Would he get that disappointed look in his eyes when he realized the evening had gone by and Kurt hadn’t called? Why on earth did Kurt say he’d call him “later,” why didn’t he just leave it open? “Can I call you sometime” would have done the trick just as well, and taken the pressure off. Or maybe he was just fooling himself, and Blaine had forgotten entirely about the promised call. For all he knew Blaine was out on a date, or snuggled in bed with some hunky boyfriend, a call from Kurt the last thing on his mind. 

In the end, Kurt decided that the right thing to do was send a text, to let him know he hadn’t forgotten, and buy him some time. “When in doubt, do right. This will gratify some people and astonish the rest.” Kurt didn’t know how Mark Twain fit in here, but this seemed like good advice, with a touch of needed humor. Of course, figuring out what was the right thing to do in a situation seemed like the harder task than deciding to do right in the first place. He shook his head, feeling himself veering off track once again. How hard could it be to send a simple text?

Kurt agonized over what to say. He typed and retyped the first part: I’m glad I ran into you today; I’m SO glad I ran into you today; so good to run into you today. He tried leaving off the sentence altogether, but then he sounded like he was scheduling a tutoring session: I let the night get away from me and now it’s too late to call. Okay if we talk tomorrow?

Finally he gave up, typed out the only thing that made any sense to him (honesty is the best policy, a voice sang out in his head), and hit send:

**1:24 a.m.  
From Kurt: I spent hours tonight afraid to dial the phone and now it’s too late to talk. Seeing you today was both the best and the most frightening thing that’s happened to me in ages. Talk tomorrow?**


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> AU after 5x02. When the New Directions’ bus crashes before Nationals, Finn is killed and Blaine is badly injured. Grieving and damaged, Kurt and Blaine call off their engagement. Two years after the tragedy, they run into each other in New York City. Klaine; Blam friendship.
> 
> Warnings for past character death (Finn), discussion of depression, injuries.

Asleep on the couch with Sam, his phone tucked away in his messenger bag by the door, Blaine in fact didn’t read anything into the fact that Kurt hadn’t yet called him. And he didn’t notice when Kurt’s text came through, Sam having deposited him into bed sometime after midnight.

But he went looking for his phone the next morning, and promptly dropped it on his toe when he read not one, but two texts from Kurt: 

_1:24 a.m.  
From Kurt: I spent hours tonight afraid to dial the phone and now it’s too late to talk. Seeing you today was both the best and the most frightening thing that’s happened to me in ages. Talk tomorrow?_

_8:02 a.m.  
From Kurt: I really hope this is the right phone number, otherwise someone is going to be very confused. Please tell me this is you._

Blaine re-read the first message about a dozen times before he realized it had already been over an hour since Kurt had sent the second one, and he was still waiting for an answer. He settled himself back on his bed and tried to still his trembling hands enough to type out a coherent response.

_9:15 a.m.  
From Blaine: It’s me. Although how does that prove anything? Anyone could say it._

_9:17 a.m.  
From Kurt: Fair point. But now I’m sure it’s you. _

Blaine giggled, but before he could type something back, another message popped up.

_9:19 a.m.:  
From Kurt: So would you like to get coffee with me, or did my first message scare you away?_

_9:20 a.m.:  
From Blaine: Far from it. And yes._

Blaine winced as he re-read his message, realizing it could be taken the wrong way.

_9:22 a.m.  
From Blaine: You know I meant yes to the coffee, right, and no to the scaring away?_

_9:25 a.m.  
From Kurt: Glad to hear it._

_9:27 a.m.:  
From Blaine: For the record, I’m both thrilled and terrified. And nervous, if that isn’t implied in the terrified category._

_9:30 a.m.:  
From Kurt: Why are we so scared?_

_9:32 a.m.:  
From Blaine: Too scary to say?_

_9:35 a.m.:  
From Kurt: I can accept that. So, coffee? When/where? What’s your schedule like?_

_9:38 a.m.:  
From Blaine: I’m free anytime after 3. Do you know Layla’s Café?_

_9:40 a.m.:  
From Kurt: I’ve never been but I know where it is. I think today at 4 will work – my dad is supposed to check out of the hospital today. If things get delayed, I’ll text you and we can reschedule._

_9:42 a.m.:  
From Blaine: I’m so sorry, I though you meant today. It doesn’t have to be today. When did you want to meet?_

_9:43 a.m.  
From Kurt: I want it to be today._

_9:44 a.m.  
From Blaine: Okay, me too. See you at 4._

_9:45 a.m.  
From Kurt: See you at 4._

Blaine squealed and flopped back on his bed. He had a coffee date with Kurt. Not necessarily a date date, but that didn’t matter. Not when compared to the simple fact that he was going to see Kurt today. On purpose, not just a random encounter Kurt couldn’t avoid. He couldn’t believe it. 

The weird thing was, Blaine was sort of surprised at how much he wanted to see Kurt. If you had asked him in the months after the break up whether he wanted to have coffee with Kurt, he probably would have just shrugged, not caring much either way. There was a period there when he just didn’t have the desire to do much of anything. Nothing seemed to make him happy, and he had a hard time getting up the interest to even care. But so many things had changed since that time, including, apparently, a very serious interest in seeing Kurt. Which was at this moment unquestionably there, sparking through every inch of his body, making it impossible to focus on much of anything else.

Blaine felt like he should do something to prepare, but he wasn’t sure what to do. He had gotten a haircut pretty recently, and it wasn’t as if Kurt had seen any of the clothes he had bought in the past year. Plus he had physical therapy at eleven o’clock, and he was supposed to meet Sam at the gym at one. As long as he got out of there by two o’clock or so, he should have time to get home, shower and dress, and get to Layla’s by four, even at his slow stumble. His “leisurely pace,” as Sam called it. “No need to rush, Blaine,” Sam liked to say, taking Blaine’s arm as they meandered down the busy sidewalks. “Just because these city folk don’t understand our leisurely pace, doesn’t mean we have to change for them.”

As Blaine’s head filled with thoughts of things that could go wrong between now and then, he realized there was nowhere near enough time to go to the gym today. He sent Sam a quick text to let him know he wouldn’t be coming, to which Sam immediately replied “Date with lover boy? What time?” Blaine responded, and received “I’ll be home by 3 and we can walk over together” from Sam.

Blaine figured Sam must not be very busy at the gym this morning, since he was replying to his texts so quickly, and decided to call him before Sam got any ideas into his head. “Sam, you’re not coming to coffee with me and Kurt. I’ll be okay, I promise.”

“Who said I was coming for coffee? I just said I’d walk you over.”

“You don’t have to do that, Sam.”

“You’ll be nervous, and you don’t want to be late. It’s no big deal, it’s like two blocks from the apartment.”

“Which is why I will be fine on my own,” Blaine insisted.

“Have it your way. I’ll still be home by 3, you can always change your mind,” Sam said easily, hanging up the phone.

Blaine wrote himself a note to pick up some of the fresh grapefruit juice Sam liked on his way back from physical therapy. He didn’t know what he had done in some previous life to deserve Sam Evans as a friend, but it must have been something good. If he and Kurt were really soulmates, he mused, where did that leave Sam? Given all the crazy that was life with Kurt, if he was going to be with Kurt again in another life, it would be really helpful to have Sam to be there too. Could soulmates come in threes?

When three o’clock rolled around, Sam was in fact back at the apartment, bouncing on Blaine’s bed as Blaine poked through the clothes in his closet. Blaine had settled on a mustard colored pair of tight jeans, much like a pair he had worn in high school (and which he knew Kurt would remember – those jeans had never gone unnoticed where Kurt was concerned). But he was having trouble choosing a shirt.

“Gee, which black polo should I wear today?” Sam teased. “The one with the little white stripe on the collar, or the one with two little white stripes on the collar? So many options!”

“I don’t know why I’m even listening to a guy whose entire wardrobe consists of plaid button downs, t-shirts, and jeans that don’t fit properly.”

“There’s nothing wrong with my jeans, B, I just like to leave a little to the imagination.”

“Baggy is not attractive, Sam, no matter what you say.”

“And skin tight cannot possibly be healthy, no matter what you say.”

“Guess we’ll have to agree to disagree.” Blaine selected a polo and sat down on the bed as he pulled it on, ignoring Sam’s laugh when he saw it (it was black, with two little white stripes on the collar). “What do you think? Am I ready?”

“You look great, dude. Really. Nothing to worry about.” Sam smiled. “Now let’s go.”

“You don’t think it’s a little early?” Blaine had actually planned on leaving soon, but he was surprised that Sam was on the same page.

“I’m guessing you want to get there before he does, buy him a coffee, get settled, that kind of thing. Am I right?”

“Yeah, you are.” Blaine took Sam’s offered hand and let him pull him to his feet. “Is it weird that I’m so nervous?”

“’Course not. Even if there wasn’t tons of history and two traumatic break-ups in your past, you’ve got a date with a hot guy – no pressure!”

“Thanks a bunch, Sam.” Blaine took his cane firmly in his hand, made sure his wallet was in his pocket, and ran his hand through his hair, likely disturbing whatever semblance of order he had cajoled it into after his shower. “And it’s not a date.”

“Whatever.” Sam took Blaine’s free arm and gestured towards the door. “Let’s do this.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> AU after 5x02. When the New Directions’ bus crashes before Nationals, Finn is killed and Blaine is badly injured. Grieving and damaged, Kurt and Blaine call off their engagement. Two years after the tragedy, they run into each other in New York City. Klaine; Blam friendship.
> 
> Warnings for past character death (Finn), discussion of depression, injuries.

Kurt looked appraisingly around Layla’s Café as he entered, taking note of the warm wood furnishings and colorful wall hangings. The place smelled enticingly of fresh bread and rich coffee. He spotted Blaine at a table by the window, his attention focused on the phone in his hands. Kurt paused, taking a moment to enjoy looking at Blaine. There had been so many times that he ached to see him again, and now Blaine was right here in front of him. Whatever Blaine had gone through to reach this point, he looked awfully good now, Kurt observed. His curls fell softly over his forehead, he had a little smile on his face, and he seemed relaxed. His well fitted polo pulled attractively over his chest and biceps, which seemed to be even more nicely defined than they once were. Quite a difference from sad, teary, hospital bound Blaine. Kurt felt a pang of guilt for not being there for Blaine’s transformation, but he was damn proud of Blaine for what he had accomplished.

He walked over to the table, shuffling his feet a little to give Blaine some warning. “Fancy meeting you here,” he said lightly as Blaine looked up.

“Kurt,” Blaine said happily, looking slightly stunned at the same time. “You’re early.”

“Just a few minutes. Hope that’s okay?” There was an awkward moment as Kurt realized that Blaine was trying to decide whether to stand up and greet him or not, so Kurt quickly leaned down and gave Blaine a peck on the cheek, then took the seat across from him. 

“Of course it’s okay.” Blaine grinned. “Hi.”

Kurt squirmed a little at the intensity of Blaine’s gaze, and gave himself a quick once over. His gray vest hadn’t come unbuttoned, and he certainly hadn’t spilled anything yet. Blaine seemed happy to just keep staring at him. “Like what you see?” he asked finally. 

“Kurt, you have no idea. I don’t think the phrase ‘glad to see you’ ever really meant anything to me before now.”

“Oh my god, Blaine,” Kurt buried his head in his hands on the table, his face burning. He hadn’t prepared himself for flirty Blaine, let alone full speed ahead earnest Blaine.

“What?” Blaine asked, teasing. “Should I not have said that I’m happy to see you? ‘Cause if you’d prefer a blow by blow of my thought process today, as I debated whether the fact that I’m this excited about seeing you makes me clinically insane, I can share that as well.” Blaine reached across the table and poked Kurt’s arm until he raised his head. “I can try and recreate it if you want, you might find it amusing.”

“You’re ridiculous,” Kurt managed, smiling at Blaine. “I missed you.” Kurt hadn’t meant to go there just yet, but there was something about Blaine’s no holds barred declaration that just blew down all of his walls, like the house of straw faced with the big bad wolf. Except that Blaine wasn’t a big bad wolf, he was more like a cute, cuddly puppy. A sexy, irresistible puppy, if there was such a thing.

A waitress appeared, setting down two large cups of coffee in wide mugs. “Would you boys like anything else?”

“Kurt?” Blaine asked. “They have some great chocolate almond croissants, if you’re hungry.”

“No, this looks great, thanks.” Kurt smiled at the waitress as she walked off. He wondered if Blaine chose this place because they had table service, eliminating the need for Blaine to walk back to the table while carrying his coffee. Stop it, he thought, maybe he just likes the place. Don’t think about his damn leg.

“Hope it’s okay that I got something for you? I asked them to just bring it over when you got here, so it wouldn’t get cold.”

“Sure.” Kurt took a sip from the wide mug. “It’s good. What is it?”

“Caramel latte, with skim milk and cinnamon. I didn’t know what you were drinking these days, but I like them.”

“Is yours the same?”

“Yup. Except mine’s decaf.” Blaine looked down as he said this, making Kurt wonder if there was a story behind it. No need to go there yet.

“It’s not as if you aren’t energetic enough without the caffeine,” he commented. He hoped jokes about Blaine’s endless energy were safe, even though he hadn’t seen Blaine particularly animated in years – at least not until yesterday.

“Exactly,” Blaine agreed, his momentary concern apparently abated.

“So,” Kurt began, not sure how to get their conversation rolling. “How’ve you been?” That should be open ended enough, right?

“I don’t suppose I could just say ‘good’ and then turn it back to you?” Blaine asked. “I’m just kidding. I’ll go first, as long as you catch me up after. Sound good?”

Kurt laughed. “Well, since that’s sort of the definition of a conversation, I guess I have to agree.”

“Okay.” Blaine took a few deep breaths, looking as if he was steeling himself for an ordeal. 

Before Blaine could continue, Kurt got up and slid over into the chair just to Blaine’s right, and waved vaguely at the window. “Sun was in my eyes.”

Blaine smiled, not buying the excuse. “Learn that from Puck?”

“I’m not hitting on you, I’m trying to be comforting!” Kurt pretended to be offended. “And I resent the implication that I would model Puck’s behavior in any manner.”

“Good, because I think his next move would be to yawn, put his arm around my shoulder, and try to feel me up.” Blaine looked down at his hands where they clutched his coffee cup, and then back at Kurt. “Is it obvious how nervous I am? Because I kind of feel like I’m going to vibrate right out of my chair.”

Kurt smiled. “Happy nervous?”

“Definitely.” Blaine rubbed his hands together. “Okay, here goes.” He turned a little in his chair, facing Kurt directly. “I finally made it to NYU, just a year later than planned. They let me switch out of Tisch, into the regular academic track. I’m majoring in ‘The Business of Music,’ although I think I’m also going to double major in English lit, which is going to be a little confusing since my first major is kind of made up anyway. I live a couple of blocks away - ”

“Wait,” Kurt interrupted. “What do you mean you made it up?” he asked curiously.

“The things I wanted to study didn’t really fit into any particular major, so I petitioned to create one of my own. I got a professor to sponsor me, submitted a proposal, and got it approved.” Blaine paused. “I kind of had a lot of time on my hands last year, what with the not going to college on time thing. I was able to do some work last spring to kind of get things set up.”

“That’s amazing, Blaine,” Kurt said. How perfectly Blaine, to shape the world to his needs, not just follow along. “So what kind of courses are you taking?”

Blaine smiled. “That’s the neat part. I got to pick whatever I thought would make sense, all aiming towards going into music production. I mean, it was pretty obvious that I wasn’t going to be able to go into performance.”

“You don’t know that,” Kurt interrupted.

Blaine gave him an odd look, then shrugged and continued. “Anyway, I thought this would let me still incorporate music into a career. I’ll be taking music courses, business courses, marketing and communication, that kind of thing.”

“But you’d rather be studying English?” Kurt found himself envying Blaine’s choices. Not that he wanted to take more English classes, per se, but just the fact that Blaine had so many options.

“I don’t know, I’m not sure yet. But I’ve always liked writing and analyzing literature and the freshman English course I had to take this year was my favorite out of everything, except for possibly music composition. And I think I’d be good at teaching.”

“High school?”

“College, actually.” Blaine shrugged. “It’s not easy to get that far, I know, but it’s just something I’ve been thinking about.”

“I think you’d make an excellent professor,” Kurt observed. “You’d look great in one of those tweed jackets with the patches on the sleeves.”

“So my qualifications include looking good in the clothes?”

“Obviously. Looking the part is half the battle.” Kurt laughed. “No, seriously, I do think you’d make a great teacher.” Kurt meant it. Blaine was whip smart, and he cared about people. Seemed like a good combination for a college professor. Certainly Kurt had been at the mercy of stupid teachers far too often to count.

“Thanks.”

The pause went on a just a little too long, and Kurt saw Blaine’s eyes flicker to where his cane lay on the ground under the table. “Do you, um, do you need something?”

“What?” Blaine inquired.

“Sorry, I saw you look at your cane, and I thought….”

“No, I’m good. I’m just trying to figure out how to tell you the rest of it.”

“The part about how you became upright?” Kurt said gently. Blaine nodded, avoiding Kurt’s eyes. “You don’t have to, you know.” When Blaine didn’t answer, Kurt continued. “Why don’t I take over for a while?”

“Okay,” Blaine nodded. “I can’t wait to hear about all your exciting adventures. I know you’ve been doing well.”

“Not really,” Kurt said honestly, earning a surprised look from Blaine. 

“No? A part in The Book of Mormon at age 20 sounds pretty successful to me,” Blaine said. “You lit up the stage in that show, Kurt. And you’ve given so many amazing performances in addition – the NYADA winter showcases, that Sondheim revival, the Fosse show.” Blaine’s excitement at Kurt’s accomplishments was genuine, and Kurt couldn’t believe how happy it made him feel.

“Thank you.” It was true, career-wise things were good, but that’s not what Kurt had meant. “Wait, how do you even know about all those shows?” 

Blaine smiled shyly. “I might just be a fan of a certain You Tube channel.”

Kurt felt his ears heat up as he blushed. “Okay, I wasn’t expecting that,” he confessed, a little embarrassed to think that Blaine had seen all of those performances. All those moments when he had been diligently trying as hard as he could to push Blaine out of his mind, until a part or a song called for pretty much any emotion (Love? Heartbreak? Loss?) and of course, thoughts of Blaine would pour back in. “I don’t even know what’s on there. Rachel made the You Tube channel for me when she set up her own, back when we first moved here. I think she just adds whatever she thinks people will want to see. Assuming it doesn’t outshine her own roles, of course.”

“Of course,” Blaine laughed. “Well, you might want to send her a fruit basket or something, because she’s been doing a great job tooting your horn. How is Rachel anyway?”

Kurt bit his lip. “Um, fine, I guess?”

“You’re not sure?”

“I actually haven’t talked to her in a while,” he admitted. “Not since she moved to L.A.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t realize,” Blaine apologized, looking confused.

“No, it’s not a big deal.” Well, not quite as big a deal as breaking off your engagement with the love of your life, he thought sadly. But still sort of a pretty big deal.

“No?” Blaine looked curiously at Kurt. “Maybe a story for another time?” 

“Yeah, let’s add it to the list for now,” Kurt suggested, then saw the pleased look Blaine was giving him. “What?”

“That means there has to be another time.” Blaine said cheerfully. “You can’t back out of it now.”

“There will definitely be another time,” Kurt said, grinning back. “You’re not getting away from me so easily.”

Blaine beamed. “Good.” Blaine let go of the napkin he had been worrying between his fingers and held his hand out to Kurt. “I believe you were going to tell me about how you are taking New York by storm?”

Kurt took his hand, winding their fingers together. It seemed like no time at all had passed since he had held this hand before. Kurt felt Blaine rub his thumb back and forth along the back of his hand as he tried to gather his thoughts, wondering how to correct Blaine’s misimpression about his life. He seemed to think everything was going swimmingly, and that just wasn’t the case. 

Blaine looked quizzically at Kurt as the silence dragged on. “Kurt? What’s wrong?”

Kurt took a deep breath and looked up at Blaine, his wide caramel eyes filled with concern. Honesty had been working pretty well so far, no need to stray from the path now, he thought. “I’m not happy,” Kurt said softly. “I’m getting good parts, my professors say I’m doing well, and I’m on track to graduate in a year with honors. But I’m not happy.” He felt his eyes fill with tears, and looked away, wishing he could somehow prevent Blaine from seeing that despite apparently having everything, he still hadn’t gotten it together.

“Kurt,” Blaine breathed out, and then slowly, as if Blaine was afraid that Kurt would pull away, Blaine wrapped his arms around him and pulled him into a hug, Blaine’s head pressed against Kurt’s cheek. Kurt felt himself relax into it immediately, as if his body instantly recognized this boy for the safe haven he had always been. He wrapped his arms around Blaine’s neck, feeling strong hands rub his back as Blaine soothed him. “It’s okay, it’s okay. It’s hard, I know. It’s okay.”

After a few minutes Kurt pulled away, rubbing at his eyes with a corner of his used napkin until Blaine handed him a soft handkerchief. “Thank you.”

“No problem. And don’t worry, it’s clean.”

Kurt gave Blaine a look. “Well I should hope so. But that’s not what I meant.”

“Oh?”

“Thank you for not telling me that I _should_ be happy. That I’m exactly where I wanted to be, that other people envy what I have, that I’m going to have a great career, and so I should be happy.”

Blaine looked thoughtfully at Kurt. “I don’t think there’s much ‘should’ to happiness,” he began. “And no one can tell you how to feel. Your feelings are yours, they are what they are.” Blaine paused, choosing his words carefully. “But I do think that if you aren’t happy, you owe it to yourself to try to figure out why, and do something about it, if you can.”

Kurt nodded. “I think I’ve been coming to the same conclusion. But it’s good to hear it out loud. It makes it seem like it’s so obvious.”

“I’m not sure you always realize it, being unhappy. At least you’ve acknowledged it. I didn’t see how far down I had gotten until one day when my therapist had me make a list of things that made me happy and things that made me unhappy. It scared the shit out of me.”

“I’m guessing the list wasn’t very balanced?”

“Not even close.”

Kurt reached for Blaine’s hand this time. “I’m sorry.”

Blaine shrugged. “Not your fault.”

No? Kurt thought. Maybe not entirely, but… He shelved that one, too. Maybe they needed to start writing these down. “Would you believe me if I told you my therapist just suggested that I make a list like that?”

“Once I get over the fact that you’re seeing a therapist, sure,” Blaine said. “Can we put that one on the discussion schedule for next time too?”

“Hey, I didn’t say a word when you said you saw a therapist,” Kurt protested. “I seem to remember you outright refusing any such thing once upon a time.” After the accident, the suggestion that the two of them see a counselor, separately or together, had been met with scorn by them both. But here they were, joking about it as if it were the easiest thing in the world to admit you needed help.

“You can’t hold that against me,” Blaine protested. “I would have said no to a pony back then.”

“Sweetie, I didn’t know you ever wanted a pony,” Kurt cooed, then banged his forehead down on the table as he realized what he said. “Blaine, I didn’t mean to-“

“Relax, sweetie,” Blaine teased. “Old habits, and so on. I wonder what our brains look like right now. Scientists must have a field day with this kind of thing.”

“Blaine, what on earth are you talking about?” Kurt looked up, perplexed.

“I don’t know, there has to be all kinds of information stored in there that we used to call on all the time when we were together, things we said to each other, the way we touched each other,” Blaine tilted his head towards their hands, still entwined together between them on the table. “Synapses that haven’t been firing for years, and now we’re waking them back up.”

“You are totally making that up.” Kurt said firmly. “My synapses never went to sleep.” I never stopped thinking about you, you fool, he thought.

“Oh? Maybe you just transferred the thoughts to Bruce?”

“Whoa there, that is definitely not a topic for today!” Kurt choked out, his mind going to places it was certainly not supposed to be going right now. “I don’t even know what you’re trying to say anymore.” He could feel his face blushing as Blaine grinned.

“I’m saying you can call me sweetie if you want to,” Blaine said, looking shyly at him through his long lashes.

“Oh. Okay.” Kurt felt as if he was going to burst with love for this man. He wasn’t sure he could take much more of this. Surely a person had a quota for how much emotion they were allowed to feel in one day, and he was pretty sure he had filled his a dozen times over this afternoon. 

“And Kurt?”

“Yeah?” 

“I’d like to help you with your happiness list, if you’ll let me.”

“Sweetie, you already have.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> AU after 5x02. When the New Directions’ bus crashes before Nationals, Finn is killed and Blaine is badly injured. Grieving and damaged, Kurt and Blaine call off their engagement. Two years after the tragedy, they run into each other in New York City. Klaine; Blam friendship.
> 
> Warnings for past character death (Finn), discussion of depression, injuries.

"I'll get the door!"

At the sound of Sam's voice Blaine's eyes flew open. Shit, he had slept for way longer than he had intended to, and now Kurt was here and Blaine was decidedly not ready. Earlier this afternoon Blaine had been on the edge of canceling his second coffee date (or coffee meeting, or whatever it was) with Kurt, given how much his leg was hurting him, but then Sam convinced him to just take it easy for the rest of the day and invite Kurt over to their place later. Kurt had agreed without asking why. Blaine felt a little odd about not coming out and telling Kurt why he didn't want to leave the house tonight, but he figured he'd slip it into their conversation without drawing too much attention to the problem. He knew he wasn't going to be able to fool Kurt into thinking he was back to normal, but at the same time, he really wished he could. 

Blaine sighed. Bad leg or not, he had thought he could pull off a nice evening with Kurt. Blaine had planned on taking a quick nap, then straightening up the apartment and getting some snacks ready, as well as spending some time for the necessary showering and obsessing over what to wear, but apparently none of that was going to happen. He sat up and grimaced, rubbing his thigh. Yup, it still hurt. He had pushed a little too hard at physical therapy this morning, and now he was going to pay for it. 

Blaine heard Sam open the door and greet Kurt. "Blaine fell asleep, his leg was really killing him. I think the meds he takes when it gets like that knock him out. But it's cool, I can give you a tour and he'll be out in a minute."

Oh my god, Sam, please stop, Blaine pleaded silently. He had to find a clean shirt and get out there before Sam said anything even more embarrassing. At least Sam seemed to have let go of his reluctance about Kurt. Sam could tell how much seeing Kurt again meant to Blaine, and like he always was when something was important to Blaine, Sam was on board.

"So this is the living room. Check out the comfy couch - it's great for watching tv. And you can pull this thing over and put your feet up on it, it's awesome." Sam was apparently sharing his love for their giant ottoman with Kurt. At least that was better than a blow by blow about his medical history.

"Here's the kitchen. It used to have one of those breakfast bars with tall stools, but Blaine's aunt let us take it out so we'd have room for a table. You can't reach a breakfast bar from a wheelchair."

Forget changing his clothes, time was clearly of the essence. "Sam? Could you please come here?" Blaine called.

Either Sam didn't hear him or, more likely, he was having too much fun tormenting Blaine. He continued telling Kurt about the apartment. "It belongs to Blaine's Aunt Cathy. She bought it so her kids could live here when they were in college, but then she kicked them out because Blaine is her favorite."

"That is not what happened! Sam!" Blaine swung his feet of the bed and tried to stand up, but groaned as pain shot up his right leg. 

Sam finally appeared in the doorway. "Dude, don't do that, you'll just hurt it more." Sam made a face as Blaine hopped over to where his cane was propped against his desk chair. "Kurt's here."

"I could tell. You know, Sam, you didn't have to tell him all that stuff about me," Blaine said, running his fingers through his hair.

"What, about Crispin and Campbell getting evicted for you?" Sam grinned, then went to Blaine's closet and pulled out a red polo, holding it up for Blaine's approval.

"They did not get evicted, and their names are Carter and Cara." Blaine took the polo from Sam and quickly traded it for the NYU t-shirt he had been wearing. As Sam briskly brushed his shoulders and straightened his collar, it occurred to him that Sam might have been spending too much time binge watching Downton Abbey. He supposed he should be grateful - not every college student had their own valet.

"You look great. Come on." Sam crouched down in front of where Blaine had sat back down on the bed, turning to look at him over his shoulder. "Piggyback?"

"Sam, no..."

"Blaine, Kurt's waiting for you, and you know you're not walking on that leg right now. If it wasn't hurting like crazy you would have been out there already. And I guarantee you're not about to roll yourself out in your chair." Sam glanced over at the wheelchair in its spot in the corner, doing its job well as a place to throw random books and clothes. "Unless you want to scoot down the hallway on your butt, I'm your best option."

"I don't suppose we could pretend I'm not here? Ask him to come back tomorrow?" But Blaine was already grabbing on to Sam's shoulders and letting him pull his legs around his waist, wincing just a little as Sam carefully took hold of his right leg. Sam was right. Given his current options, at least this one didn't scream weak and sickly. Maybe he could go for playful.

As Sam bounced him down the hallway Blaine peeked over his shoulder, spotting Kurt sitting primly on one end of the couch, magazine in hand. Blaine hoped it was one of his, not some crazy thing Sam brought home.

Kurt looked up and smiled as Sam deposited Blaine on the couch next to Kurt. “You really know how to make an entrance.”

Blaine straightened himself out, trying to sit normally on the overly soft couch. His heart flipped as he looked up. Kurt’s crisp blue shirt was making his eyes shine, and his chestnut hair artfully swooped up over his forehead. He took a deep breath, linking his hands together to stop them from shaking. “Thanks for coming over. I’m sorry I had to cancel our coffee date.”

“You didn’t cancel it, you just shifted it a little bit.”

“And changed the menu,” Sam said, setting a tray with two glasses and a plate of cookies on the ottoman. “Tea is served,” he announced grandly in what was probably supposed to be an English accent. “Well, lemonade, actually.”

“This looks great, Sam,” Kurt said, reaching over for a glass. “I love lemonade.” He took a polite sip and grinned. “It’s delicious.”

“Thanks – I made it myself.” Sam said proudly. 

“It’s a nice change from coffee,” Kurt commented, taking another sip.

“Yeah, well, I have a lot of trouble sleeping, so I stay away from caffeine,” Sam explained, holding out the plate of cookies. “Try one of these, they’re lavender shortbread.”

Blaine definitely had to speak to Sam about his Masterpiece Theater obsession. This was getting out of hand. “Where did you even get those cookies?”

“The tea shop a few blocks over. They had scones and stuff too, but I figured that was kind of messy. I ran over there while you were getting your beauty sleep.” Sam got up and tousled Blaine’s hair. “See, I’m not completely useless.” Sam winked and took off down the hall.

Blaine sighed. “I don’t know what to say. Sam’s been watching a lot of Downton Abbey lately. I think he wants to be an English count. Or a butler, I’m not sure.”

“I think he cares about you,” Kurt said softly, his eyes wide. 

“I know.” Blaine bit his lip, not sure how to put this. “I care about him too. A lot. I never would have made it to New York without Sam.”

Kurt put his lemonade glass down and grasped his hands together, paying very close attention to his cuticles. He looked up at Blaine. “Are you two, um, together?”

“What, like dating? No, definitely not.” Blaine smiled. ”Blam is still completely platonic.”

Kurt wrinkled his nose. Blaine knew he had always been a little confused about the whole “Blam” business. “Sorry, you just seem to fit so well together, I had to ask.”

“Don’t be sorry. People think that all the time.” Blaine paused, dying to know if Kurt was seeing anyone. He didn’t act like it, but he didn’t want to assume. Seemed like the right time to ask. “What about you?”

“Me? Am I dating Sam?” Kurt teased.

“Now you’re just being mean,” Blaine complained. “You know what I’m trying to ask.”

“No, I’m not seeing anyone.” Kurt replied firmly. Thank goodness, Blaine thought to himself. “And I can’t help it if I’m a little jealous of your bromance with Mr. Evans.”

“Well, now we can all be friends,” Blaine said seriously. “I’m willing to share him, if you’re interested.” 

“Oh my god, Blaine, you cannot have just said that,” Kurt blushed furiously.

“As friends, you dope,” Blaine insisted. “He’s a really awesome friend, he’d be good for you.”

“What do you mean?”

Blaine shrugged. “It just seems like you could use a friend.” Blaine hoped that wasn’t going too far. But he had noticed that not once in the past few days had Kurt mentioned anyone except his dad, and knowing that he wasn’t in touch with Rachel anymore frankly worried him.

“But I have you now, right?” 

Blaine’s heart twisted at the tentative tone in Kurt’s voice. “You can have more than one friend, you know.” He scooted closer to Kurt on the couch, pulling his good leg up underneath him and taking one of Kurt’s hands in his. “But yes, you do have me.”

Kurt smiled and squeezed his hand. “Good.” He took a breath, and then blurted out “Wait, you are single, right? I mean, you said you weren’t dating Sam, but…”

“Yes, silly, I’m single.” Blaine reassured him. It was sweet that Kurt was worried – no, in fact, it was awesome that Kurt was worried. 

Kurt rolled his shoulders and looked around the room, apparently ready for a change of topic. Blaine was relieved, actually, since he was about two seconds away from kissing Kurt, and it was probably a little too soon for that. Although he was beginning to believe it might be a possibility at some point, and the thought made him giddy. Blaine contented himself with stroking his thumb over the back of Kurt’s hand, enjoying the softness of his skin. He wondered if he still used the same moisturizer, or if he had changed things up over time. And whether he still took such good care of the skin on other parts of his body.

“You have a really nice place.” Kurt commented, pulling Blaine out of his contemplation of Kurt’s skin. “I like the décor. A far cry from impoverished college student chic.”

“Thanks. I guess you heard it’s my aunt’s?”

“Yeah. Is she the one I met at Christmas that time, the diplomat?”

“Yup, that’s her. My two older cousins both went to college in New York City, so they got this apartment for them. She thought the youngest one would want to use it too, but then Catrina decided to go to Stanford. Since none of them needed it anymore, she said I could use it. It has been a real lifesaver, living this close to school.”

“Tell me your cousins don’t all have names that start with ‘C.’”

“I’m afraid I can’t do that,” Blaine admitted.

Kurt laughed. “At least your parents didn’t give you a ‘C’ name. Hey, is that why Cooper…?”

“No, at least I don’t think so. Cooper’s a few years older than Carter, anyway, so that wouldn’t have worked.” Blaine smirked. “It’s not like you can talk.”

“What do you mean?”

“Burt and Kurt? Come on, you guys rhyme!” They laughed together for a minute, and then Kurt took their entwined hands and rested them on his lap.

“So tell me, how did you and Sam wind up as roommates?”

So they were going to go there. It really wasn’t a big deal, Blaine didn’t know why he was so hesitant to talk about what had happened over the past few years. He was obviously going to have to explain everything to Kurt, if he wanted this, whatever it was, to work. And he definitely wanted it to work. “Okay, are you ready for the story?” He could see by the concerned expression in Kurt’s eyes that he knew Blaine was nervous.

“If you want to tell me.”

“I do.” Blaine took a long breath and let it out, winding his fingers together with Kurt’s. “Well, you know how I was when you last saw me. My prognosis wasn’t very promising, nothing was getting better, and everything hurt. But after a couple of months, even though it had seemed like nothing was happening, I realized that my leg was getting better. Just the tiniest bit easier to move, just a little bit less painful. And I was feeling marginally less miserable, too. There’s a chicken and the egg problem there that I don’t really know the answer to, but in any case, everything just seemed a little bit less hopeless.”

“Blaine,” Kurt breathed out, sliding closer until they were touching, shoulders and arms together, Blaine’s knee pressed against Kurt’s thigh. “I’m so sorry….”

“No, don’t, you don’t have anything to be sorry for.” Blaine swallowed hard. “Let me just keep going, okay?” Kurt nodded, gripping his hand tighter. “So at some point, Sam showed up. He had spent that summer and fall after the accident at home in Kentucky, taking courses at a community college. But he came back to Lima after Christmas, and he started visiting me at the rehab center. I was a total asshole to him at first, I told him to leave me alone, go away, all that crap, but he acted as if he didn’t even hear me. Eventually I guess I just got tired of arguing with him.” Blaine huffed out a laugh. 

“Classic Sam,” Kurt commented softly. “He pretends to be oblivious but he knows what he’s doing.”

“Yeah, he does,” Blaine agreed. “Anyway, by the time I finally came home from rehab in February, Sam was around all the time. Ryder had introduced him to a tutor that specialized in dyslexia, he was taking another course at Lima Community College, and he kept coming over and asking me to help him study.”

“And then one thing led to another….” Kurt teased.

“Exactly. Before I knew it, he was making me watch superhero movies and arranging New Directions sleepovers.”

“I would love to have seen that.”

“I’m sure you can imagine it. Remember the sleepover Kitty had after the shooting at McKinley? It was like that, except now we were all even more traumatized. And…”

“And what?” 

“And Kitty wasn’t there.” Blaine blinked rapidly. “I’m sorry, I really can’t talk about Kitty right now, can we put her on the list?”

“Of course,” Kurt said softly. He lay his head gently on Blaine’s shoulder, and Blaine’s heart raced as he turned his head and breathed in the smell of Kurt’s cologne. Kurt was quiet for a minute, letting Blaine relax and center himself again.

“Want to keep talking about last year?” Kurt asked, and Blaine nodded, Kurt’s hair tickling his nose. “When did you start seeing a therapist?”

“Around March or so. Sam sort of convinced me to do it.”

“I figured.”

“He had been seeing a counselor since right after the accident. His mom is a social worker, did you know that? Anyway, they insisted, and they found him someone really nice in Kentucky. Sam still calls her every once in a while.”

“Guess that bus accident was good business for therapists,” Kurt commented wryly.

“Tell me about it.” 

“So is this when you started planning your new major?”

“Yeah, well, I finally came to terms with the fact that a performance major wasn’t going to work out for me, which was hard. But then Sam told me he was coming to New York too, and I knew I had to get my act together. So I contacted NYU, and they have been really awesome about everything. Not just the major, but making all kinds of allowances for my situation.”

“Like what?” Kurt asked.

“Well, last summer I took an online course, and I’m going to do the same thing this summer, which is obviously great since I don’t have to physically go anywhere. And they let me miss a lot more classes then you’d ordinarily be allowed to do, as long as I keep up with the work, and check in with the professors online, which was really helpful when it snowed so much last winter. It’s ridiculously hard to get around New York in a wheelchair. There’s also a bus, although I don’t like it very much.”

“Why not? I take the bus all the time.”

“Kurt,” Blaine pleaded. “It’s just embarrassing. It’s one of those special busses for disabled people, with a ramp that goes down so you can get on in your wheelchair.” He ran his hand through his hair and sighed. “But most of the time Sam came along with me, so that really helped. He’s great at not letting me take myself too seriously.”

“Sam comes to class with you? What, is he like a seeing eye dog?”

“Don’t joke, I think my parents would have hired him to move to New York with me if he hadn’t already been planning on it.” Blaine laughed at Kurt’s appalled expression. “I kid you not, they threw him a party like you wouldn’t believe when he got into NYU, they were so happy.”

“Wait – Sam goes to NYU too?”

“Surprise, right? Turns out, with the right tutoring and accommodations for his dyslexia, Sam is a really good student. He had actually started turning things around senior year at McKinley, but no one really noticed because of his awful SAT score.” Blaine smiled, rocking his shoulder into Kurt’s. “And of course, he’s got a really compelling personal story.”

“I still have a copy of that video you made for him, you know,” Kurt said. “I remember when Santana showed it to me. It made me love you so much.”

Blaine blinked as his throat closed up, not sure what to say. He and Kurt hadn’t even been together when he made that video for Sam – it was even before their infamous hookup at Mr. Schue’s non-wedding. 

“I didn’t know you ever saw it,” he said softly. 

They were silent for a few minutes, Blaine letting his head rest against Kurt’s. Finally Kurt spoke up again. “So, you guys come to New York, move into this fabulous Greenwich Village apartment, and the rest is history?”

“That’s the story.” Blaine chuckled. “And you’d know it if you ever looked at Facebook. There are a dozen pictures on there of Sam wearing the NYU sweatshirt my mom bought him.”

“She bought you a matching one, didn’t she?”

“Oh yes, she certainly did. And ones for herself and my dad. Actually,” Blaine sat up a little, looking at Kurt, “you’d know a lot of this stuff if you looked at Facebook. Did you really not know all this, or were you just humoring me?” Blaine felt a little funny as he watched Kurt’s face.

“No, Blaine, I swear, I really am a social media freak – I haven’t been on Facebook in years, truly.” Kurt grabbed both of Blaine’s hands in his. “I wouldn’t make you go through all this if I already knew, I promise.”

“Okay,” Blaine said. Apparently he still looked uncertain, because Kurt tugged on his hands until he looked at him.

“Blaine? I stopped looking at Facebook a few months after Finn died. It was just too much, every time I thought I had a handle on things, someone else would post their memories of him, something sad and beautiful, and it would set me off again. So I just stopped.”

Blaine thought he was beginning to understand why Kurt seemed so lonely. “Is that why you aren’t talking to Rachel anymore? Because of Finn?”

“Yeah, more or less,” Kurt answered sadly.

Blaine pulled his hands out of Kurt’s and wrapped his arms around him, exhaling in relief when Kurt hugged him back. They sat there together for a few minutes, Blaine resting his head against Kurt’s cheek, breathing him in. His heart ached hearing the pain in Kurt’s voice. He couldn’t imagine what it would be like to lose his brother. Cooper drove him nuts, but he still loved him like crazy. It wasn’t fair that Kurt kept losing people he loved. Blaine concentrated on rubbing soothingly over Kurt’s back, finally stilling his hands and simply holding him.

Blaine was starting to wonder if they could just stay like this forever when he heard Sam clearing his throat. They pulled apart, Kurt’s hand sliding down to take Blaine’s in his again.

“Sorry to interrupt, guys, but, um, my laptop ran out of battery.” Sam looked forlorn, a fleece blanket wrapped around his shoulders like a cape.

Blaine considered reminding Sam that he could plug his computer into the wall, but he realized that probably wasn’t the whole story. “That’s okay, Sam, you don’t have to keeping hiding in your room.” Blaine looked quickly over at Kurt, who seemed content. “Want to watch a movie with us?”

“Yeah, dude, that would be great.”

Sam cleared the tray away and plopped himself down on the couch next to Blaine, stretching his legs out as he demonstrated how well the ottoman worked as a footrest. Kurt obediently retrieved the throw blanket from where Sam had actually put it away in the closet (“you’re the tallest, Kurt, you go get it”), and they all settled down to watch The Breakfast Club, Sam happily babbling on about which of the characters matched up best with each of the New Directions.

Nestled in between his best friend and the love of his life, warm and drowsy with his head resting on Kurt’s shoulder, Blaine found it hard to remember the last time he felt so happy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To read about the sleepover Blaine refers to (that Kitty hosted after the shooting at McKinley), see my fic “They Calm The Waves” on A03.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> AU after 5x02. When the New Directions’ bus crashes before Nationals, Finn is killed and Blaine is badly injured. Grieving and damaged, Kurt and Blaine call off their engagement. Two years after the tragedy, they run into each other in New York City. Klaine; Blam friendship.
> 
> Warnings for past character death (Finn), discussion of depression, injuries.

Kurt smiled as he left his therapist's building and came out into the warm sunshine. He had decided that early June was his favorite time of year to be in New York City. The temperature was perfect for strolling down the city streets, not too hot, but well past the rain and wind of April and May. And his ebullient mood had nothing whatsoever to do with a certain curly haired man that had just popped back into his life, no sir, nothing at all. Tessa has practically chirped with excitement when he told her about their coffee date, and their lemonade date, and his plans for his next “date” with Blaine. 

It had only been a few days since they spent the evening together at Blaine's apartment and Kurt was dying to see Blaine again. The trouble was, he wanted this time to be a real date, and he wasn't sure how to ask Blaine. Kurt was fairly confident that Blaine would say yes, but every time he thought about asking, he got nervous. He could tell that Blaine was sort of shy around him. The past few years had changed both of them, and Blaine was clearly a lot less confident than he had been back in high school. But he still lit up like a Christmas tree when Kurt smiled at him, and reached out a hand in comfort when Kurt faltered. Kurt may not know this Blaine as well as he had known the old Blaine, but he really wanted a chance to remedy that. And he was pretty sure he could have that chance now, if he just didn't scare him away.

Kurt pulled out his phone and sent a quick text. 

**From Kurt: Hi there. Are you free next Monday night?**

Kurt was relieved when Blaine replied right away; he wanted to do this soon, before he lost his nerve.

**From Blaine: I think so. Why do you ask?**

**From Kurt: Because I'd like to take you out to dinner. And I can't do it before then, because I'm going to visit my dad tomorrow and I won't be back until Sunday. Otherwise it would be a proper weekend night date.**

**From Kurt: And I don't want to wait until the next weekend. Which I guess is implied.**

**From Kurt: Blaine?**

**From Blaine: When you say take me out to dinner, what do you mean?**

**From Kurt: I mean a date. A date date. If you want. If you don't, it can just be dinner (defined in the usual manner).**

In for a penny, in for a pound, Kurt thought.

**From Blaine: Yes. I'd love to go on a date with you. (I'm squealing a little bit, I seem to have upset a small dog and his grumpy owner with my startling squeal of joy).**

**From Kurt: Where are you?**

**From Blaine: On my way home from physical therapy.**

**From Kurt: Don't walk and text, I know how you get.**

Kurt had watched Blaine walk into the side of the choir room door more times than he could count; he had never seemed to master the fine art of simultaneously walking and texting. 

**From Blaine: I'm actually sitting down right now, don't worry.**

Kurt grimaced as he realized that it was probably physically impossible for Blaine to walk and text now, since he needed a hand for his cane. He decided to ignore his faux pas, figuring that was better than drawing attention to it. He’d just wind this up before he put his foot in his mouth again.

**From Kurt: So, I'll pick you up at seven on Monday?**

There was a pause, and just as Kurt was getting concerned, Blaine responded.

**From Blaine: Let me know the place, and I'll meet you there.**

That was weird. Why didn't Blaine want him to come to his apartment? Maybe Blaine didn't want Sam to know? That didn't make any sense, Sam had been genuinely friendly when he came over the other night. He smiled, remembering Sam's English butler impersonation, and the lavender shortbread cookies Sam had bought for them. Sam had even laid the cookies out on a real plate. Either Blaine’s manners had rubbed off on Sam, or Sam was trying really hard to make a good impression. He didn’t think Blaine’s comment had anything to do with Sam.

**From Kurt: I haven't picked a restaurant yet, but my top two options are both near your place. Are you going to be somewhere else, at class or something? Tell me and I'll meet you there.**

Kurt looked up as he rounded the corner, trying to avoid his own texting accident, when he saw Blaine. He was seated cross legged at a metal table in front of a coffee shop, his tan skin practically glowing in the warm sun. Blaine’s boat shoes were abandoned under his chair, his ankles and feet bare below where his sweats were rolled up. Kurt's breath left him for a moment as he took in the sight, Blaine's white short sleeved henley stretched appealingly across his shoulders, the back of his neck exposed. Blaine was leaning forward over the table, his phone in front of him.

“Hey there,” Kurt said happily as he came up next to Blaine.

“Kurt!” Blaine untangled his legs and jumped up, giving him an off balance kiss on the cheek. “Hi! Where did you come from?”

Kurt put a hand on Blaine’s waist to steady him, smiling broadly at his excitement. “My therapist moved her office, it’s just a few blocks back that way,” he explained, pointing back in the other direction. “I was just on my way back. Put your shoes on, and I’ll walk you home.”

Blaine pocketed his phone and slid his feet back into his shoes, then seemed to deflate. “That’s okay, you should go on without me. I might get a coffee or something.”

“Blaine?” Kurt peered around, trying to catch Blaine’s eyes. Something was off. Maybe it had to do with the meeting at the restaurant thing? But Blaine was still standing right next to him, and Kurt still had his hand on Blaine’s waist, Blaine’s skin appealingly warm underneath his light cotton shirt. Blaine didn’t actually seem to want to leave Kurt, to get a coffee or anything else. Kurt’s eyes flickered to the cane hooked over a neighboring chair, and took a guess. “Do you not want to walk with me?”

There, that was it. Kurt saw Blaine’s face tighten when his question hit home. Kurt waited, splaying his fingers on Blaine’s side, slowly bringing his other hand to Blaine’s arm and pulling him back towards Kurt.

Blaine let himself be turned, but kept his eyes on the ground. “I’m not 100% yet,” Blaine said softly. “I walk slowly. Sometimes really slowly.” His breath hitched. “I have to stop a lot.”

“So we’ll walk slowly,” Kurt said gently.

“It’s not just that,” Blaine’s voice cracked as he went on. “People push past. I’m in the way. They give me these looks….”

“You’ll remember I have an excellent bitch look.” 

“How many people my age use a cane? I’m ridiculous.” Blaine’s face was scrunching up as he tried not to cry.

“You are not ridiculous.” Kurt bit his lip, wanting more than anything to make Blaine’s pain go away. But as always, that was easier said than done. He took a deep breath, then pulled Blaine close to him, winding his arms around to his back. “You’re not ridiculous. You’re standing up, so strong after everything you’ve gone through.” Kurt took a deep breath, pulling Blaine closer. “I missed you,” Kurt whispered into his ear. “I missed this so much.” He stroked up and down, letting his hands press into Blaine from his waist up to his shoulders and back again. Kurt waited until Blaine relaxed and his breath steadied, then pulled back to see his face. 

Blaine gazed directly at Kurt, his eyes wide and wet. “I missed you too. A lot. But…” Blaine moved out of Kurt’s arms, and unhooked his cane from the back of the chair, setting it into place and shifting his weight off of his right leg. “You shouldn’t have to deal with all of this. It’s better now than before, obviously, but I still don’t expect you to take this on, on top of everything else.”

Kurt felt as if he was falling, his stomach dropping out. “But you said yes. You said you would go on a date with me,” he protested. 

“Maybe it’s a mistake,” Blaine said dejectedly.

“No, it’s not a mistake,” Kurt insisted. “It’s not.” He grabbed Blaine’s free hand and squeezed it. “Maybe we slipped into this a little too easily, maybe we need to talk about it more, but it’s not a mistake. You’re right that there was a lot I couldn’t deal with before, but things have changed for both of us. We’ll talk about it, we’ll figure it out.” He tugged on Blaine’s hand, unwilling to let him slip away, scared of the despairing look on his face. He wasn’t going down without a fight, and he wasn’t going to let Blaine run away from something he was pretty damn sure Blaine wanted just as much as he did. “Tell me you don’t want to be with me, and I’ll let it go. But I don’t believe it for a minute, Blaine Anderson, and you’ve never been able to lie to me, so don’t even try.” Kurt held his breath as he watched Blaine’s face, so tight and worried.

“Okay,” Blaine said finally. “Okay. You’re right.”

“I am?” Kurt finally caught Blaine’s eyes. He looked nervous, but he wasn’t giving up either.

“Yeah. I do want to be with you. It’s probably the most obvious thing on the planet.” Blaine blushed and looked away. “I never imagined having you see me like this, though, not after everything. It’s tough for me.” 

Kurt touched Blaine’s cheek and rested his forehead against Blaine’s. “I know, baby, and I’m so proud of you. I can’t imagine how hard you’ve worked to get so far.” Blaine closed his eyes, and Kurt ran his hand into the damp curls on the back of Blaine’s neck, rubbing softly. “I think we can do this. I believe in us. Please, give me a chance to show you.”

Blaine lifted his head. “You really think so? And you don’t mind that I’m still…?” he asked softly, waving vaguely at his leg.

“You’re perfect,” Kurt said fervently. “I don’t care about your leg, I don’t care if we have to walk slowly, or if I have to carry you, I really, really don’t,” Kurt exhaled in relief as a small smile tugged at Blaine’s mouth. Kurt straightened up and offered his arm to Blaine. “Well. Here we are,” he said confidently. “It’s a gorgeous day, and I’m going to stroll down the streets of New York with my boy – uh – with my friend,” Kurt stammered out. Shit, he thought, just when things were looking up, I had to go and put my foot in my mouth again.

But apparently Blaine was ready to move past the dramatic portion of the conversation as well, as he just laughed in response. “You may change your mind when the senior citizens lap us, but until then, lead on.”


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> AU after 5x02. When the New Directions’ bus crashes before Nationals, Finn is killed and Blaine is badly injured. Grieving and damaged, Kurt and Blaine call off their engagement. Two years after the tragedy, they run into each other in New York City. Klaine; Blam friendship.
> 
> Warnings for past character death (Finn), discussion of depression, injuries.

“So he really didn’t say where he was taking you?” Sam asked.

“Nope, he said he wanted it to be a surprise.” Blaine pulled his blazer on and looked in the mirror over his dresser, then turned to Sam. “What do you think?”

“You look awesome.”

“You’re not going to tell me to lose the bowtie?” Blaine was wearing one of his favorites, light blue with dark blue polka dots. Kurt had given it to him back in the spring of Blaine’s senior year, when Kurt was home from New York for a visit. That was when they got the good news about Burt’s cancer being in remission. Blaine figured a little light blue for good luck and good memories couldn’t do them any harm at this stage. He paired it with a nicely fitted navy button up and a tailored dove gray jacket, but had decided on jeans instead of slacks, not wanting to be overly formal. 

“Nah. You are dressing for Kurt, after all. Know your audience, and so on.” Sam was typing away on Blaine’s laptop, and groaned.

“What?”

“Do you know how many restaurants there are around NYU alone? Man, this is a crazy place to live.” Sam shrugged. “I don’t think I can figure out where he’s taking you. There are just too many options.”

“There are a lot of people in New York, I guess they need a lot of restaurants?”

“Guess so,” Sam commented, losing interest in his search. He came over to where Blaine was standing and rested his head on Blaine’s shoulder, looking at their reflection in the mirror. “You okay? ‘Cause I’m going to head over to the gym, if you’re good.”

Blaine turned and stroked Sam’s biceps, squeezing a little until Sam grinned. “Didn’t you work out already today?”

“Yeah, but there’s a class I was thinking of taking.”

“What kind of class?” Blaine was pretty sure Sam hated exercise classes.

“Um, something with bicycles?”

Blaine sat down on his bed and pulled Sam down next to him. “You don’t want to be here by yourself.” It wasn’t really a question. Sam seemed completely healthy and together from the outside. He didn’t have any lasting physical injuries from the bus crash, and he was coping pretty well with normal life. But the truth was Sam was still affected by it. He had terrible nightmares, he got panicky in small spaces, and he didn’t much like being alone, especially at night. 

“What? No, Blaine, I’m totally fine.” Blaine gave Sam a quizzical look. “Okay, I’m not totally fine, but I’m mostly fine. It’s okay. You’ve got a hot date, and I can entertain myself for one night. It doesn’t matter.”

“It does matter, Sam. You matter to me.” Blaine put his hand on Sam’s shoulder and looked him in the eye. “More than anything.”

“Not more than anything,” Sam mumbled, shifting his gaze away from Blaine.

“Sam? I’m not dumping you for Kurt,” Blaine said firmly.

“That doesn’t make any sense. He’s Kurt. And we’re not anything.”

Blaine wasn’t sure how to fix this, but he had to try. Sam had been there for him not only through his first break up with Kurt, but in the past few years, he had become closer to Sam than he had been with anyone ever before. Not in the same ways as he and Kurt had been close, but in ways that were still really important. He and Kurt had been high school sweethearts, but they had broken up before they ever had a chance to live together, to go to school together, to experience so many of the things that he and Sam had been doing for a long time now. And he and Sam had gone through a painful and traumatic experience, which, clichéd as it might be, brought them even closer as they each struggled to heal. What Blaine had said to Kurt the other day was true – without Sam, he never would have made it to New York. Hell, he might never have made it out of bed. Blaine couldn’t stand that Sam thought he was going to ditch him now that Kurt was back in the picture, although he understood exactly why he felt that way.

“Don’t say we’re not anything. You know it’s not true. We’re Blam.” Blaine smiled as he said it, hoping it would cheer Sam up. “We may not be dating, but we’re never splitting up. You’re my best friend, Sam.” Blaine put his arms around Sam and pulled him close, tugging harder when Sam resisted. 

“But you and Kurt….” 

“It doesn’t make a difference what happens with me and Kurt. You and I, we’re a package deal now. If Kurt wants me, he gets you too.” Blaine hoped Sam would take the bait, and, not surprisingly, he did.

“Kurt would like that, wouldn’t he,” Sam giggled into Blaine’s hair.

“I imagine he would.”

\-----

A few hours later, Sam left for the gym, and Blaine was organizing the silverware drawer to distract himself as he waited for Kurt to arrive. He was nervous, there was no doubt about it. He didn't know why, it wasn't as if he and Kurt hadn't been on dates before - dozens of them, in fact - but that was ages ago, and this seemed different. He thought to himself that most people probably didn't get even one chance to be with someone as special as Kurt, and now he had the tremendous good fortune to be given a third chance. He didn't think a fourth chance was in the cards, and so he really, really couldn't screw this up.

Blaine was just debating whether the grapefruit spoons belonged with the teaspoons or in the other drawer with the miscellaneous kitchen tools when he finally heard a knock on the door. He stepped carefully over to the entranceway and checked the peephole. Yup, it was Kurt. Blaine opened the door, his heart racing.

"Hi, Kurt. You look great." And he did, Blaine thought, taking in the way Kurt's dark purple suit jacket emphasized the broadness of his shoulders. 

Kurt leaned in and quickly kissed Blaine's cheek. "You do, too.” Kurt reached up and touched Blaine’s blue bowtie with a fingertip. “You still have it,” he said softly.

“Of course,” Blaine held still as Kurt gently tugged on the tie, despite the fact that it most likely was perfectly straight already.

Kurt let go of the tie and stepped back, then gave Blaine a quizzical look. "What's with the spoons?"

Blaine looked at his hand to find that he was still holding on to two grapefruit spoons. "Oh, sorry, just, um, organizing." He dropped the spoons unceremoniously in the little bowl on the hall table, on top of his spare keys.

"Is that their new home?" Kurt teased. 

"Maybe." Blaine took a deep breath, begging his stomach to stop fluttering. "I thought I'd leave them there for a while, test it out. You never know when you might want a grapefruit on your way out the door, and it wouldn't do to have to go back to the kitchen to get the right spoon."

Kurt laughed, and a sudden warmth filled Blaine. This was really happening. Kurt was right here, with him, and they were going on a date. Together. 

"Here, these are for you." Kurt pulled a bouquet of daisies and lavender sprigs out from behind his back and presented them to Blaine. Blaine didn't know how he had missed them before, other then maybe the fact that he was having trouble looking anywhere but into Kurt's sparkling blue eyes.

"Kurt, thank you. They're beautiful. Let me put them in some water." Blaine turned into the kitchen and quickly arranged the flowers in a simple vase. Kurt stood close to him as he filled the vase with water, the citrusy smell of his aftershave blending with the aroma of the lavender. 

Kurt took the vase from Blaine and set it on the table. "They look nice here." He smiled shyly at Blaine. "I wanted something different. These made me think of seeing you sitting at that cafe the other day, wiggling your toes in the sun."

Blaine blushed. "You know how I feel about toe freedom," he joked. 

"I do. But socks are not cruel and unusual punishment for toes, Blaine, no matter what you say." 

"You say potato, I say potahto," Blaine sang, grinning. 

"Fine, Louis Armstrong, but you're going to have to put something on your delicate tootsies so we can go eat." Kurt nudged Blaine's bare foot with his leather oxford. "I'm sure you have just the right pair of boat shoes to complement your outfit."

Blaine teased Kurt by pretending to choose a pair of Sam's sneakers that were lying in the hall, then slipped on his boat shoes. He grabbed his cane from where it rested by the door, and took a steadying breath. 

"Ready?" Kurt asked.

Blaine nodded. They left the apartment and Blaine locked the door behind them, taking Kurt 's arm with his free hand.

"How's your leg feeling today?" Kurt asked seriously as they came out to the street. "The restaurant isn’t too far, but we can get a cab if you'd like."

Blaine knew Kurt was just trying to be helpful, but he hated focusing on his leg. "I'm okay to walk it. I'll, um, I'll let you know if I ever need help, or need a break or anything. You don't have to ask."

"You don't like talking about it, do you?"

"That obvious, huh?"

"I don't want to make you uncomfortable," Kurt began. "But I don't know what does and doesn't bother you unless you tell me." They paused at a corner to let a group of enthusiastic teenagers get past them. “You can tell me, you know.”

"I know, I'm sorry," Blaine said, concentrating on avoiding a bumpy section of sidewalk. "Can we maybe talk about this after we get there?" Blaine felt bad shutting Kurt down, but he also didn't want to trip and land on his face. A second later he almost did just that as a guy on a messenger bike swiped past him as they crossed the street, Kurt grabbing him around the waist and tugging him back up as he started to fall.

They sat down on a bench for Blaine to catch his breath, Blaine giving thanks once more for the many cafes that littered his neighborhood, providing emergency seating when he needed it. Blaine could feel his face burning as Kurt waited, his hand warm on his back. 

"See how much fun it is to go for a walk with me," Blaine mumbled, but instantly regretted it. A negative attitude wasn’t going to help anything, and it certainly wasn’t a very good way to start off their date. "I'm sorry, Kurt, I try not to be so touchy about this. I'm just so freaking embarrassed." He buried his head in his hands. 

After a moment Kurt giggled, and Blaine looked up, confused. "Did you just laugh at me?" 

"No, no, not at you. At me." Kurt giggled again.

Blaine smiled - he couldn't help himself, Kurt’s laugh was infectious. "Care to enlighten me?"

"I just had the cheesiest thought. More cheesy than those gourmet grilled cheese monstrosities your dad used to make for us."

"Cheesier than the cheese breadsticks with extra cheese at Breadstix?" Blaine asked.

"Exactly." Kurt giggled again. "And I'm not telling you anything else until we get to the restaurant." Kurt stood up and held out his hand. "Come on. I promise not to ask you any more deep questions while you're trying to survive the New York City streets."

\-----

They made it to the restaurant without any further drama. It was a cozy little Italian place, candlelit and romantic. They were seated at a small table in the back, and as they looked over the menus, Blaine felt Kurt's foot wind around his calf. His left calf. Romantic and clever, Blaine thought. Blaine stole a glance at Kurt, who was apparently still reading through the pasta choices, but who smiled softly as he wiggled his foot out of his shoe and rubbed his socked toes over Blaine's bare ankle. Blaine shivered, and saw Kurt's smile get infinitesimally wider. Blaine could tell that Kurt was enjoying himself, being here with him, and the thought made his heart soar.

Blaine blushed when Kurt looked up and caught him staring. "I can't help it, the way you look in the candlelight, Kurt... It's like something out of a dream."

Kurt blushed. “Guess I’m not the only one being cheesy today.”

“Don’t deflect. You’re beautiful,” Blaine insisted softly. 

“So are you.” Kurt gazed at Blaine, a serious look in his eyes. “I never stopped thinking about you, you know,” he said intently.

“I never stopped thinking about you, either,” Blaine whispered, his heart pounding.

The moment was interrupted when the waiter came over, giving Blaine a much needed chance to try to calm himself down. “So, what was the super cheesy idea you were having at my expense on the way here?” Blaine asked once they were done with ordering.

Kurt bit his lip and rubbed his hands on his thighs. “It might be more stupid than cheesy,” he admitted. “Can I hold off on it for a while? I promise it’s not anything bad.”

“Okay,” Blaine agreed. “But it sure cracked you up before. Let me know when you want to share.” They busied themselves with the warm bread and olive oil for a moment, Blaine being careful not to drip anything on himself. At least he had the foresight to order tortellini, he thought. It’s already in bite size pieces and you don’t even have to cut it. 

"So, how was your trip to Lima?" Blaine asked. 

Kurt looked confused for a minute. "Oh, I didn't go to Lima. Just New Jersey."

Now was Blaine's turn to be confused. "But I thought you said you were visiting your dad?"

"I was." Kurt frowned, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand. "He's staying with his brother in South Orange. It’s less than an hour away, you can take a train straight there."

"Oh," Blaine said, still confused. Something didn't seem right. Kurt had pulled his foot away from Blaine, and crossed his feet primly under his chair. "Is your dad okay? Is it his heart again?"

"No, nothing like that." Kurt pressed his lips together and shrugged. "He and Carole aren't doing so well. They're not officially separated or anything, but they decided to spend some time apart. At least that's what my dad told me." Kurt looked like he was about to cry.

"Kurt, I'm so sorry." Blaine reached out and set his hand palm up on the table, and Kurt took it. 

"No, I'm sorry. This was going so well, and I had to ruin it." Kurt's voice was tight.

"You? Have you already forgotten the great messenger bike scare of earlier this evening? You can't take credit for all the drama, much as you like to steal focus." Blaine watched Kurt's face closely as he joked, and was relieved when Kurt looked up at him, smiling wryly.

"We make quite a pair, don't we," Kurt said, shaking his head. 

"Send in the clowns," Blaine responded. 

Kurt laughed then, surprising Blaine. "God, I've missed you. No one else gets me like you do. How the hell is it that you always know what I'm talking about?" Kurt squeezed Blaine’s hand and relaxed, his posture loosening again as he leaned forward. “Whatever’s going on with my dad and Carole, it’s really hard for me to talk about. Obviously.” Kurt took a deep breath. "I think we should make a list of all the difficult and emotionally crappy things that are going to come up, that are going to make us stutter and choke and pull our hair when we try to talk about them. And we'll just agree that we'll do the best we can with it. Because I want this, Blaine. I want us. And if we're a little more fragile than we used to be, a little more ragged around the edges, I don't care. I'm okay with it if you are."

"I'm okay with it, I'm definitely okay with it." Blaine put his other hand on top of where his and Kurt’s were already together, and Kurt did the same. They were kind of a mess, but that was exactly what Kurt was getting at, and it could still work. "So to be clear," he said, "what we're saying is that you won't mind if I burst into tears every once in a while, and I won't mind if you do, is that the plan?" 

"That's my cunning plan, Mr. Anderson."

“Ooh, I can’t believe you made a Blackadder reference!” Blaine grinned. Talk about zigging when he expected Kurt to zag.

“Well, Sam’s not the only one who watches BBC shows.” Kurt smiled. “Although it is a bit ironic that Sam is channeling the Earl of Grantham while I’m quoting Baldrick.”

"Well, I approve of the plan, cunning or otherwise. Although I may need to ask my mom to send more handkerchiefs in her next care package."

"Can you ask her to embroider those little B's on the corner? Those are my favorite."

Blaine snorted out a laugh, tugging his hands away from Kurt’s to cover his face.

"Oh, very attractive, Blaine. What's so funny?”

“Well, it turns out you don’t know everything about me yet.” Blaine continued to giggle. There was still so much more for them to learn about each other, so much that they could learn together. And it was really going to happen. Blaine felt his heart swell with delight at the potential of what could be. 

“What do you mean?” Kurt asked. He looked adorable, his face open and curious.

“My mom doesn’t embroider my handkerchiefs. I do.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Read about when Kurt gave Blaine the blue polka dot bow tie in my fic We Slip and Slide on A03.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> AU after 5x02. When the New Directions’ bus crashes before Nationals, Finn is killed and Blaine is badly injured. Grieving and damaged, Kurt and Blaine call off their engagement. Two years after the tragedy, they run into each other in New York City. Klaine; Blam friendship.
> 
> Warnings for past character death (Finn), discussion of depression, injuries.

It was Saturday morning, and Kurt was stuck at the Vogue.com offices, waiting for an email from Isabelle so he could get to work. Kurt almost never worked there anymore, but Isabelle had been called away on some kind of emergency earlier in the week, and begged Kurt to come in and finish up some projects she had to abandon. It was interesting stuff, and he appreciated the extra cash, but it ate up all his free time and had made it impossible to get together with Blaine since their date Monday night.

In some ways this may have been a good thing, he thought. They’ve talked and texted a lot since Monday, and Blaine seemed more relaxed about things, less jumpy. They haven’t delved into any of the hard stuff, deciding that they really needed to have those types of conversations in person, but the playful, casual exchanges between them have been important, too. In some ways it has been ridiculously easy to fall back into a relationship with Blaine, although it’s definitely not the same as it was before. Although they acknowledged their torn edges, it still hurt when they veered too close to a sore spot. But overall Kurt felt like it was working well, and he was happier than he’d been in ages. He thought Blaine was, too.

Kurt sent a quick email off to Isabelle, asking as politely as he could manage if she was really going to have anything for him to do today or if he should just come back in tomorrow, and then picked up his phone and texted Blaine.

**From Kurt: Hey, are you awake?**

**From Blaine: It’s nine-thirty. Of course I’m awake.**

**From Kurt: Don’t brag about your early-riser tendencies. Some people could find that irritating.**

**From Blaine: Are you one of those people?**

**From Kurt: It depends on whether your bad habit affects my beauty sleep.**

**From Blaine: I’d think it would depend on what I use to wake you up. Because I seem to remember there were some methods you definitely didn’t object to.**

Kurt groaned. He hadn’t meant for the conversation to go in that direction, but he supposed it was just as much his fault as Blaine’s. It had been over two years since he and Blaine had done more than kiss, and since getting back together they hadn’t even done that (pecks on the cheek didn’t count), yet they were both all too eager to tease. 

**From Kurt: I should tell you I’m at work. So we should put this conversation on hold.**

**From Blaine: I think we should get a medal, or something. We must have set some kind of record for putting conversations on hold. It’s impressive that we have anything left to talk about.**

**From Kurt: There’s always the critical topic of where to keep the grapefruit spoons.**

**From Blaine: That’s true, I never did resolve that one. Although I think Sam put an end to it by pointing out that we never buy any actual grapefruit, just grapefruit juice, and you don’t need spoons for that.**

**From Kurt: But how does that solve where to put the spoons?**

**From Blaine: It doesn’t, but it makes it less important, because we don’t need to know where they are, since we’ll never use them.**

**From Kurt: Clever. Hey, I actually did want to talk to you about conversations.**

**From Blaine: That sentence would be hard to understand, if I didn’t know what you were talking about.**

**From Kurt: See? What did I tell you. You always know. Anyway, I made a draft of our list of hard stuff. Can I send it to you?**

**From Blaine: Sure. Is it going to make me cry? Because I haven’t finished the embroidery on my new handkerchiefs, and I don’t like to use them until they are ready.**

Kurt would have been embarrassed at how he laughed out loud at Blaine’s text, except that the office was deserted and no one was there to care. He adored this man. 

**From Kurt: I hope it doesn’t make you cry, because you’re not allowed to cry unless I’m there to kiss you and make it better.**

**From Blaine: …Kurt.**

**From Kurt: Okay, prepare yourself. Here’s the list: Rachel, Kitty, the gritty details about your right leg, why it’s so hard for you to talk about your leg, you thinking you can’t perform, my ambivalence about my career, calling off the engagement, Burt and Carole potentially getting divorced. Anything else I should add?**

There was a long pause, and then Blaine responded.

**From Blaine: Do you want to put Finn/grieving? I keep wanting to ask you how you are doing, but it seems so inadequate. But I hate not saying anything.**

**From Kurt: Thank you. I’ll add it. If nothing else, it’s one of those topics that will likely make me lose it, so it belongs on the list.**

Another pause, and then Kurt’s phone rang.

“Blaine?”

“Hi. My hands were shaking so much even the iPhone spellchecker couldn’t make any sense of what I was trying to say.”

“Okay.” 

“And I kind of wanted to hear your voice, if you can talk now,” Blaine added.

“Of course. I can talk, no one’s here anyway.” Kurt wondered where Blaine was going with this. He had that tone in his voice that signaled that more was coming.

“I love hearing your voice, you know,” Blaine continued. “I love how you can put so much meaning into what you say to me, even if you’re not saying very much at all. As good as you are with words, when you speak to me, it’s never just words. It always makes me feel better.” Kurt heard Blaine take a deep breath. “Kurt, there’s something I’ve wanted to tell you for a while, and if it’s okay, I’d like to do it now,” Blaine explained.

“That sounds serious. Shouldn’t it go on the list? I mean, we can put it on the list,” Kurt protested, feeling vaguely panicky.

“It’s not bad, I promise. And we can’t put everything on the list. Just listen, okay? And try not to take this the wrong way.”

“Okay,” Kurt agreed reluctantly. This was sounding better and better, he thought dejectedly.

“I just want you to know that it always helped when you talked to me. After the accident, all those times when you called me, and texted me, I wasn’t very appreciative. Hell, half the time I don’t think I said very much to you, no matter how hard you tried. But it did help, Kurt. Talking with you, even if I was just listening, it always made me feel better.”

“But it didn’t help. I didn’t know what to say, I couldn’t…” Kurt trailed off, his throat tightening up. Thinking about Blaine in the hospital, in pain and withdrawn, made him feel sick to his stomach. Blaine was right, there had been many phone conversations that were so one-sided they could hardly be called conversations, where Kurt tried valiantly to engage Blaine, and he just sighed or gave one-word answers in return. Then Blaine would say he was too tired to talk, and they’d give up until the next night. Then the next night would come and it would happen again, and Kurt would get angry at Blaine for not showing any interest, and then Kurt would say he was too tired and ring off. It made him ache to remember. “Why are you telling me this now?” 

“Because I think you feel guilty about it, about not doing enough or something. And I just want you to know that regardless of what happened afterwards, every time you reached out to me, I felt your love.”

Holy crap, this man is going to be the death of me, Kurt thought, taking deep breaths and trying hard not to cry. “Thank you,” he said softly, a few tears falling despite his efforts. “I’m, um, I’m really glad to hear you say that. I felt so useless, like I couldn’t do anything to help.”

“I know. But you did.”

“Until I didn’t,” Kurt said sadly, sniffling hard. Was it worse to know that he was helping at all? Didn’t that just make it breaking off the engagement that much more cruel?

“Our break-up was a mutual decision,” Blaine said quickly. “We both thought it was the right thing to do at the time.” Kurt could hear Blaine taking deep breaths over the phone, and wondered if he was crying too. “Kurt, I’m so sorry. I really didn’t mean to make you cry. I just wanted you to know….”

“No, it’s okay. This whole list thing is kind of bullshit, isn’t it. Or at least, we can’t necessarily compartmentalize everything. Some of it’s bound to get mixed up together.” Kurt huffed out a laugh. “I guess we’ve reached the ‘not minding when we burst into tears’ part of the conversation.”

“I guess so,” Blaine replied, and Kurt imagined he was making that little smile that meant he recognized the humor in the awkward situation. “I’m still sorry I upset you,” he said seriously.

Kurt paused, choosing his words carefully. “I think it’s important that we tell each other what we’re feeling. We know some of it is going to hurt, but that’s not why we’re saying it. I’m glad you told me.” He glanced over at his computer as he heard it ding. “Figures.”

“What?”

“I just really want to see you right now. But of course Isabelle finally emailed me, and she’s got a list of work for me to do. However…” Kurt hadn’t planned on bringing this up with Blaine yet, but he didn't want to end the conversation with both of them so bummed out. “Speaking of how much you love my voice,” Kurt said teasingly, “there’s something I wanted to ask you.”

“Oh? I’m curious.”

“Tuesday night I’m performing at a NYADA alumni event, a fundraising thing. Would you come with me?”

“Tuesday night?”

“Mm hm. I think it starts at seven.”

“I’m supposed to volunteer at the hospital that night, but I can try to move it.”

Kurt tried not to sound disappointed. “No, don’t do that. Those little kids need you.”

“I’ll still go, I’ll just go in the afternoon instead. I think it will be fine, I’ll just double check with the head nurse and let you know. I’d really like to go with you.”

“You would?”

“Yeah. And who knows, you might even be better in person than on You Tube.”


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> AU after 5x02. When the New Directions’ bus crashes before Nationals, Finn is killed and Blaine is badly injured. Grieving and damaged, Kurt and Blaine call off their engagement. Two years after the tragedy, they run into each other in New York City. Klaine; Blam friendship.
> 
> Warnings for past character death (Finn), discussion of depression, injuries.

Blaine got off the phone with Kurt and sighed. What a fail of a conversation. He pushed himself off his bed and walked slowly out to the living room, trailing his hand along the wall. Sam was spread out on the couch, feet propped up on the ottoman, looking like he just got out of bed.

“What’s wrong, dude? You look like someone stole your puppy.”

“Kurt was texting me from work to kill time, and I called him and got all serious and sentimental, and I kind of screwed things up. I mean, not totally, but it definitely didn’t go the way I planned.” Blaine sat down next to Sam, who set his laptop aside and put his arm around Blaine’s shoulder companionably.

“What did you plan?” Sam asked.

“I guess that’s the problem, I didn’t really think it through. I mean, I told him I called him because I wanted to hear his voice, which was true, of course-”

“Of course, he’s got an awesome voice,” Sam agreed.

“But then I started talking about stuff that happened after the accident, when I was in the hospital. How much it mattered to me that he was there, even if it might not have seemed like it at the time. I was trying to make him feel better, but I think I just made him feel worse.” Blaine squeezed his eyes shut and snuggled into Sam’s chest. “I just want to go back to sleep and forget it happened.”

“I’ve tried that, it doesn’t actually work.”

“I know, but a man can dream.” Blaine sighed. “I need to figure out how to make our relationship less like a daytime soap opera.”

“I don’t know, doesn’t Kurt like reality tv? That stuff’s pretty dramatic.”

“Yeah, but he doesn’t want it to be his own reality. Kurt’s never going to want to be with me if I’m just whining all the time, and bringing up all the stuff we got wrong in the past.”

“Come on, Blaine. I can’t believe you were whining. And I thought you said Kurt wanted you guys to talk about things, even if they were painful?”

“He did, but, oh, I don’t know. It just didn’t go well. Take my word for it.” Blaine picked up the string of Sam’s hoodie and rubbed the knot between his fingers, then brushed Sam under his chin with it.

“Stop it, that tickles,” Sam said, bending his neck to look down at Blaine. “If you really want a tickle fight, you’re on. But I thought we were on a ‘figure out how to fix your mess’ mission.”

“No, you’re right, we are. I do need to fix it. Will you help me?”

“Of course, dude, duh. But I still don’t understand what you think went wrong,” Sam pointed out. “Try to explain it to me, and maybe that will give us an idea about what to do next.”

Blaine thought for a minute. He really had just wanted Kurt to know how he appreciated the way Kurt spoke to him, the way Kurt heard him. But for Kurt, apparently, that issue was all wrapped up with their break-up and Kurt’s regret about not being able to help Blaine more. “I was just trying to compliment Kurt, and emphasize our connection, but it turned into a conversation about the break-up, which hits a million different buttons for both of us. And then I kind of wanted to talk about that, but that topic is definitely on our list, so we really couldn’t get into it on the spur of the moment.”

“So it’s not that you guys aren’t going to talk about all of that eventually, it was just too heavy a conversation for this morning?” Sam summarized.

“Exactly. It was too heavy, he wasn’t prepared, and I upset him. I shouldn’t have brought up that stuff during a casual conversation, it was too much of a downer. He’s not going to want to be with me if every conversation is a tear-filled drama fest.”

“I think you’re being a little too hard on yourself,” Sam said firmly. “Kurt obviously wants to be with you. And, as I’ve already pointed out,” Sam adopted his professor voice, “you both know difficult topics are going to arise, and you have agreed to discuss them.”

“I know,” Blaine said, laughing a little at Sam. “He did ask me on another date at the end of the conversation.”

“See? What are you so worried about?” Sam poked Blaine a few times in the arm for emphasis.

“I don’t know,” Blaine moaned. “Sam, I just want him to like me.” It sounded so simple, put that way, but as soon as Blaine said it he knew was true. Underneath everything, he just wanted Kurt to like him. 

“You’re nuts. You know damn well that he likes you. Just relax. You guys have both gone through a lot. You’ll work all this out.”

“I guess.” Blaine pouted, aware it was just for his own benefit since Sam couldn’t see his face anyway, since it was currently pressed against Sam’s chest. But it made him feel marginally better. “We haven’t even been able to get together all week. Kurt’s doing all this emergency work for Isabelle, and you and I have been volunteering at night, and our schedules don’t match up at all.” At the time the hospital had asked Blaine about scheduling for the summer he hadn’t had any reason not to want to spend his evenings there, and since Sam usually came along with him, it wasn’t a big deal. But it wasn’t very conducive to an actual social life.

Sam rubbed his back comfortingly. “It’ll be okay. Try not to make it so heavy next time. Just show him how you feel.” Sam untangled himself from Blaine and got up off the couch. “I’ve got to run over to Professor Martin’s, but it won’t take long. We can brainstorm when I get back.”

Blaine suddenly knew what he wanted to do. “Sam, that’s it! You’re a genius.”

Two hours later, Blaine texted Kurt. Sam sat next to him, holding up his hands with all his fingers crossed.

**From Blaine: Good news. I talked to Maria at the hospital and changed my volunteering schedule around. I’m free for the NYADA thing, and I’m free tonight as well. Please say you’re free tonight too, because I’m dying to see you, and I have an idea.**

Luckily for Blaine’s nerves it only took a few minutes for Kurt to respond.

**From Kurt: That’s fantastic! I’m so glad you can come with me. And yes, my dance card is open tonight. What’s your idea?**

**From Blaine: You’ll find out. Just tell me when you’re free and where I can pick you up.**

**From Kurt: Is our destination closer to your place or Vogue? Because I can either stay here and work or bring the dregs of it home with me, whatever makes more sense. (And I can’t believe you’re not telling me what the idea is. How will I know what to wear?)**

**From Blaine: It’s closer to my place. Why don’t I pick you up outside your building at eight? (Dress is casual, with the usual allowances for the fact that you never really dress casually).**

**From Kurt: It’s a date. (Hee hee. I love saying that.)**

“Whew,” Blaine exhaled, holding his phone up so Sam could see the texts. “It’s all set. Now we have to get to work.”

“That’s cool that Maria didn’t mind you changing your schedule,” Sam commented, looking around for the list they had been working on. 

“You know, she totally didn’t mind. Apparently the storyteller that usually comes in the afternoons can’t make it anymore, so they had that slot open anyway. But even if Maria did mind, I would have tried to work something out, at least for some of the days.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. If I’m going to make this work with Kurt, we have to spend time together. Texting and phone calls aren’t enough, at least not now when we’re trying to figure everything out.” Blaine took Sam’s offered hand and let him pull him up off the couch.

“Sure, that’s the reason,” Sam said, tugging his sneakers on and holding the door for Blaine.

“What do you mean?”

“I know why you’re so desperate to see Kurt tonight, and it’s not just because it’s hard to talk about tough stuff over the phone.” Sam took Blaine’s arm and smirked. “I’m pretty sure it’s because kissing works much, much better in person.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it's short, but Chapters 10, 11 and 12 are sort of a three-part set. Chapter 12 will post tomorrow. Please let me know what you think!


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> AU after 5x02. When the New Directions’ bus crashes before Nationals, Finn is killed and Blaine is badly injured. Grieving and damaged, Kurt and Blaine call off their engagement. Two years after the tragedy, they run into each other in New York City. Klaine; Blam friendship.
> 
> Warnings for past character death (Finn), discussion of depression, injuries.

Kurt was outside his building promptly at five to eight. It was almost dark, and it was the kind of beautiful summer evening in New York that Kurt loved, filled with people relaxing in the warm air, not yet exhausted by the heat that would descend in July. Kurt was so glad that Blaine had suggested getting together tonight. Their conversation earlier in the day had left him feeling untethered, and all he really wanted to do was snuggle into Blaine’s arms and stay there for a while.

Kurt was picturing this very moment when Sam appeared, looking like he was about to burst with excitement. “Kurt, hey!” Sam grabbed Kurt in an enthusiastic hug, nearly knocking him over. “I like your scarf, the butterflies are cool. Here, let me fix it, I think I kind of messed it up.”

“It’s okay, Sam, I’ve got it.” Kurt straightened out the light blue scarf, tucking it back into place over his yellow short sleeved button-up, and smiled at Sam. “And thanks, it’s one of my favorites.” Since when did Sam compliment men on their clothes, Kurt wondered, realizing almost instantly who must have encouraged this habit in Sam. “Not that I’m not happy to see you, but where’s Blaine?”

“I’m taking you to him. It’s not far, don’t worry.”

Kurt refrained from asking Sam about their destination, not wanting to ruin what was obviously supposed to be a surprise. Instead he asked Sam about NYU, and it turned out they had both taken similar courses on Shakespeare’s comedies, which launched Sam into a series of quotes from Much Ado About Nothing, his favorite so far.

As they turned onto Tenth Street, Kurt’s curiosity grew. “Isabelle lives near here, I think,” he commented, looking around at the stately brownstones. “Tell me we’re not going to her house.”

“Nope, we’re not,” Sam said, a mischievous look in his eyes. “But you’re on the right track.” They stopped in front of one of the townhouses, and Sam took a key out of his pocket. “How do you feel about blindfolds?”

“Um, not great?” And it had nothing at all to do with the fact that it would mess up his hair, nothing at all.

“Okay, then just come inside, and put your hand over your eyes. Don’t peek.” Sam waited for Kurt to cover his eyes, and then led him slowly ahead, through a cool hallway. Kurt heard a door slide open. “Step just a little bit here, and then forward a few more…” Sam gave Kurt a pat on the shoulder and let go. “Have a good time.” 

“You can open your eyes now,” a familiar voice said from in front of him. He did, and there was Blaine smiling broadly at him. Kurt looked around in awe. They were in a tiny garden, surrounded by leafy plants, ivy growing up the fences on either side. There were hundreds of tiny white fairy lights in the trees and over the stone bench in front of him, and there were flowers everywhere. He heard water running, and turned to see a fountain off to the side, set into the corner, the trickling sound delicately muting the hum of the city. 

“Blaine, this is beautiful! What is this place?” And you look lovely too, Kurt thought, admiring the way the short sleeves of Blaine’s green and blue plaid shirt highlighted his tight biceps, the light pink of his bow tie contrasting smartly with the dark shirt.

Blaine took his hand and they sat down on the bench. “One of my professors lives here. He’s away for the month and Sam comes over every day to water the plants and check on things.” 

“Please tell me he knows you’re here.”

“Yes, silly, of course. I have full permission to use his secret garden to woo you.”

Kurt blushed, wondering if his face had gone as pink as Blaine’s bowtie. “Is that what you’re doing?” 

“It is.” Blaine plucked a blossom off the fragrant honeysuckle vine next to them, and tucked it gently behind Kurt’s ear. Kurt could feel his heart racing, and he shivered despite the warm night. “Is it working?”

“Yeah,” Kurt said breathlessly, gazing into Blaine’s eyes, warm and inviting. “It is.” 

“Good.” Blaine reached over the arm of the bench to a small table. “Can I interest you in some refreshments? Sparkling cider, perhaps?”

“That sounds nice.”

Blaine handed Kurt a glass and then reached over again, returning with a plate that he balanced on his crossed legs as he settled himself on the bench facing Kurt. 

“What’s that?”

“Fresh strawberries and whipped cream. Because it’s June, and it would be a sin not to eat strawberries.” 

“Of course,” Kurt breathed out.

Blaine picked up a petite berry and dipped it into the bowl of whipped cream, then held it towards Kurt. He obediently opened his mouth, and Blaine placed the berry on his tongue, brushing his finger against Kurt’s lip to catch a drop of the cream that had landed there.

Without speaking, Kurt took a berry from the dish, swiped it through the cream, and placed it in Blaine's mouth, letting Blaine close his lips over his fingertips before slowly pulling his fingers back. Then he dipped just a finger in the cream, stirred it around deliberately, held it up towards Blaine, and then quickly popped it in his own mouth, licking it clean.

"Oh my god, Kurt," Blaine groaned. 

"What, did you think that was for you?" Kurt said, teasing. He licked his finger again, as if there was still cream on it. “Mmm, very nice.” He tried to catch Blaine’s eyes, but he seemed to have retreated, maybe a little flustered. Kurt put a hand on Blaine’s knee and squeezed. “This is amazing, Blaine. Thank you.”

“You like it?”

“It’s one of the most beautiful spaces I’ve ever seen in the city, and I’d say that even if you weren’t in it.”

Blaine blushed and grinned, looking down. “I’m glad.” He rubbed his face, then took a deep breath. “Okay, ready for the next part?”

“Does it involve more wooing? Because I’m all for that.” Kurt took the plate of strawberries from Blaine and set it under the bench.

“Yes, definitely.” Blaine uncrossed his legs and sat up straighter, his shirt stretching appealingly over his chest. "You keep implying that I shouldn't give up on performing. And I haven’t, not completely. But lately all I keep thinking about is how much I want to sing to you. It doesn't make a lot of sense to me, since I'm so out of practice, especially compared to you.” Blaine shrugged. “You'd think I would be self-conscious about it, like I seem to be about everything else when it comes to me and you these days. But it's like that Tracy Chapman song, ‘I remember there was a time when I used to sing for you,’” Blaine sang it a little. “I keep thinking about the times when I used to sing to you, and when we'd sing together, and I don't think I ever felt more perfectly happy in my whole life. So I hope you'll bear with me, and let me sing to you." Blaine smiled softly at Kurt as he pushed himself up off the bench. 

“I’d love that.” Kurt watched, mesmerized, as Blaine carefully perched himself on the edge of the stone wall that ran along one side of the garden, and picked up a guitar that he had apparently left there in preparation. Kurt couldn’t help thinking, as he watched Blaine settle himself so deliberately, whether his leg was hurting him tonight. He had no intention of mentioning it right now, however – even Kurt Hummel could learn from his mistakes. He knew the topic shouldn’t be taboo, but bringing it up in the middle of the beautiful scene Blaine had created was definitely a bad idea.

Blaine caught Kurt’s eyes and continued with his introduction. "So my senior year I helped Ryder work on this song, and it made me crazy, because I wanted to sing it to you so much it hurt. Like, it physically pained me every time we ran through it. I got past it, though, of course - I know he didn't use it up or anything by singing it - and I figured if I was patient, there'd come a time when I could sing it to you, even though I couldn't then. Of course things didn't go the way we had planned.” Blaine smiled and bit his lip nervously. "And now, well, I just feel so lucky that despite everything, life has brought us together again, and I can sing for you. So here goes."

As soon as Blaine started the guitar intro, Kurt knew what was coming. He loved this song, and Blaine was right. It was perfect.

_It's a little bit funny, this feeling inside_  
 _I'm not one of those who can easily hide_  
 _I don't have much money, but boy if I did_  
 _I'd buy a big house where we both could live._

As Blaine sang, Kurt closed his eyes for a moment, transported back in time to when a dark haired stranger had serenaded a new kid. Blaine's voice had captivated him from the start. He sounded a little different now, a bit rougher, more coffee-house and less polished. But Kurt knew that this was the real Blaine, unshielded and vulnerable, opening himself up for him.

Kurt looked up and caught Blaine's gaze. He smiled, then, feeling it take over his face, his crazy big smile that came out when he was giddy beyond caring.

_And you can tell everybody this is your song_  
 _It may be quite simple but now that its done_  
 _I hope you don't mind, I hope you don't mind, that I put down in words_  
 _How wonderful life is, when you're in the world._

Blaine was pouring himself into the music, as he always did, as if every muscle in his body had to participate. But he kept his eyes on Kurt, hardly glancing at the strings, as if they were merely extensions of his fingers. Kurt had always envied the way Blaine could play so many instruments so well, and not just the piano. He remembered how surprised he had been the first time he came over to Blaine’s house while he was practicing the violin, and how Blaine had nonchalantly breezed through some complicated classical piece. When he had complimented him, Blaine had brushed it off. "I never really got the hang of the violin," he had commented, looking embarrassed, which had made no sense at all given the technical prowess Kurt had just witnessed. Kurt had thought Sam had introduced Blaine to the guitar, but it turned out Blaine had just been too polite to tell Sam he already knew how to play. Sam figured it out, of course, and was just as perplexed as Kurt. "All those times in the choir room, man, why didn't you pick up a guitar?" Sam had asked. "Because I like to hear you play," had been Blaine's response. For all Blaine seemed to love the spotlight, Kurt had realized that it wasn't so straightforward for this boy, who somehow didn't believe in himself despite all he had accomplished. 

But here he was, singing his heart out for Kurt. And Kurt was falling hard. It wasn't as if there had ever really been a question in his mind about whether he still loved Blaine; he had simply never stopped. But he hadn't meant to sink into it so completely again, not yet, before they had figured everything out. Damn you and your love songs, Blaine Anderson, he thought. Talk about kryptonite. 

Blaine's voice grew softer as he neared the end, and his gaze became more intimate. He sang slowly, seeming to linger over every phrase.

_So excuse me forgetting, but these things I do_  
 _You see, I've forgotten if they're green, or they're blue_  
 _Anyway, thing is, what I really mean_  
 _Yours are the sweetest eyes I've ever seen._

Blaine's focus on Kurt was no less intense as he sang the final verse, and Kurt inexplicably felt tears well up in his eyes. He was overcome, in the best possible way, and there was no escape.

Kurt hardly realized that the song had ended until Blaine had put the guitar down and returned to his spot next to him, sitting close and taking Kurt in his arms. Blaine held him gently for a minute, then rested a hand on Kurt's cheek, brushing away a tear with his thumb. "I didn't break you, did I?"

"No," Kurt said softly. "Quite the opposite." Blaine continued to stroke his cheek, and Kurt closed his eyes, giving himself over to the wonderful feeling of being cradled in Blaine’s arms. His put his arms around Blaine’s shoulders and rested there for a moment, safe and loved. He felt Blaine rub their noses together, and he smiled.

“Blaine?” he asked, opening his eyes and pulling back so he could see him. 

“Yeah?” Blaine blinked, his long eyelashes fluttering.

“Can we kiss now?” Kurt hadn’t wanted to move too fast, this time, didn’t want to just hook up like they did last time they were broken up. But this wasn’t going to be a hook up, and he didn’t see any point in waiting any longer. He wasn’t sure it was physically possible.

“Is that an invitation?” Blaine’s eyes were shining, clear and beautiful.

“It is.”

“Then I accept.” They closed the space between them and kissed, finally. It was familiar and brand new all at once, and it was wonderful. Blaine’s hands came to rest around Kurt’s waist as Blaine slid closer to him, pressing his lips more firmly against Kurt’s, and then opening his mouth, deepening the kiss. Kurt felt like his heart was about to explode. Finally they pulled apart, breathing heavily. Blaine rested his head on Kurt’s shoulder and sighed, his nose pressed into his neck, and Kurt snuggled closer, his arms wrapped around Blaine’s shoulders, one of his hands weaving its way into Blaine’s curls.

“So does this count as a first kiss?” Blaine asked lazily, touching his lips to Kurt’s neck. “Or a third first kiss?”

“I don’t know, but I think it’s our best first kiss so far,” Kurt said, pulling gently on Blaine’s hair. “Although as always, I do think we could use some more practice.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Tracy Chapman song Blaine refers to is "Sing to You," and the one he sings is "Your Song" by Elton John.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> AU after 5x02. When the New Directions’ bus crashes before Nationals, Finn is killed and Blaine is badly injured. Grieving and damaged, Kurt and Blaine call off their engagement. Two years after the tragedy, they run into each other in New York City. Klaine; Blam friendship.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for past character death (Finn), discussion of depression, injuries. This chapter involves discussion of the bus crash in more detail than previous chapters.

It was late on Sunday night, and Blaine was curled up in a comfy chair in the back corner at Layla’s. He jumped when Kurt surprised him with a kiss on the top of his head.

“Kurt! I didn’t expect to see you tonight.” His voice was higher than he meant it to be, but he couldn’t help it, he was so happy to see Kurt. And the fact that Kurt was dressed in a thin purple v-neck t-shirt and clingy black yoga pants didn’t help matters much.

“My rehearsal got out a little early – not that 10 o’clock is early, mind you – but when I walked by this place I thought of you.”

“I do tend to hang around here a lot. The gym where Sam works is nearby, he’s meeting me when he’s done working.” To walk me home, Blaine thought. Not that he couldn’t walk home alone, but until recently he really hadn’t felt comfortable walking around in the city by himself, and he and Sam had gotten into the habit of going everywhere together when they could. But he’s not my seeing eye dog, Blaine thought to himself, thinking of Kurt’s comment. He’s my friend.

“Okay if I join you for a while?” Kurt asked.

“Definitely.”

Kurt ordered a latte and settled into the couch next to Blaine. Blaine tried to focus on the book he was reading but was soon distracted, watching Kurt as he paged through the latest issue of Vogue. Soon all of their reading material was abandoned as Kurt decided to give Blaine a detailed introduction to each of the other NYADA students who would be performing at the fundraiser Tuesday night. 

“And then there’s Cora. You either love her or you hate her. I’m not sure where I’m at right now, before rehearsal it was hate, for sure, but she can sing the hell out of Sondheim.” Kurt’s eyes sparkled as he explained how Cora had infuriated their music director by refusing to sing a duet, claiming that the evening wasn’t worth her time if she didn’t get a solo. Apparently the problem was resolved by giving her a solo and a duet. Blaine almost said how much she sounded like Rachel, but refrained, remembering how sore that particular subject was. He was just thinking that it might be a good time to talk about her, when Kurt’s phone rang.

Kurt’s breezy energy dropped away as he listened to the caller. He quickly stood up and turned away from Blaine, nodding, his shoulders tight. He dropped the phone from his ear, but didn’t move.

“Kurt? What’s the matter?” Before Blaine could get up, Kurt turned and sat back down.

“It’s nothing.” Kurt’s face was pale and blank. 

Blaine moved to sit next to Kurt on the couch, his knee just barely touching Kurt’s. “What’s wrong? Tell me.”

Kurt shook his head. “It’s really not a big deal. My landlord called. Apparently there was a fire in my building. It didn’t reach my apartment, but there may be some water damage. Because, you know, when they come to put out a fire they soak everything.” Kurt put his head in his hands. “Shit.”

Blaine put an arm around Kurt’s shoulders and pulled him close. “That’s awful, Kurt. Do you want me to come over there with you, help clean up? Sam can come too, he’s good at lifting things.” Blaine hoped that would get Kurt to smile, but it didn’t.

“He said they weren’t letting anyone in the building tonight, it has to get cleared by the fire department first. I can’t even go see what happened…” Kurt kept his head down in his arms. “All my stuff is there,” he mumbled sadly.

Blaine turned Kurt in his arms and hugged him tighter. “Then stay with me tonight. We’ll figure it out in the morning.”

“Are you sure? I can go to my uncle’s in New Jersey…” Kurt raised his head, but Blaine couldn’t tell what he was thinking.

Blaine gave Kurt a look. “Really? You’d rather take the train to New Jersey at eleven o’clock at night than come have a sleepover at my place?”

“No, I guess you’re right,” Kurt smiled wryly. “Your place does smell a lot nicer than the train station.”

“Such a charmer,” Blaine replied, pushing himself up off the couch. “Come on, I’ll text Sam to just meet us at home. Let’s go eat some ice cream and watch some mindless television.”

\----

Sam was already back at the apartment by the time they got there, and he popped out of his room to commiserate with Kurt over the fire at his building. “It’s not fair that you can’t go over there now,” he agreed. “How are you supposed to know how bad it is? I mean, everything could be destroyed!”

“On the other hand,” Blaine said firmly, “there could be no damage at all. So there’s no point in freaking out about it now, we’ll go over tomorrow and check it out.” He gave Sam a pointed look.

“Fine, Pollyanna, maybe the apartment fairy will have come and given Kurt a new big screen tv, too,” Sam joked. “Hey, will you text me tomorrow and let me know how it goes? I’ve got to be at the gym in the morning, but I can meet you over there later if it would help.”

“Sure, Sam.” Blaine gave Sam a quick hug goodnight, and then joined Kurt in the kitchen as Sam went back into his room.

They decided against ice cream. Blaine made them tea with lemon and honey and they sat at the table drinking it and eating apple slices. Blaine could tell that Kurt was stressed, but was trying not to overreact. “It’s okay if you’re worried, you know,” he said.

Kurt ran his thumb over the rim of his mug, sighing. “I know material stuff isn’t important compared to, well, people. And even if everything in my apartment was gone, it wouldn’t be the end of the world. But I do have things in that apartment that I would really, really, really rather not lose.”

Blaine waited, torn between wanting to touch Kurt and not wanting to interrupt him.

“All my photo albums. Pictures of me with my mom when I was little. My graduation pictures with Finn. His football jacket – Santana made me keep it, she said she’d just lose it. Pictures of me and you, like that one from the prom with my crown. My engagement ring…”

Blaine reached out and covered Kurt’s hand where it rested on the mug. “Water won’t damage the ring, baby.” Blaine had often wondered what happened to the ring. He was glad that Kurt kept it, that it was still special to him.

“What about the other one? The gum wrapper ring,” Kurt said sadly.

“If it’s gone I’ll make you another one. Even better this time.” Blaine said softly.

“There couldn’t be a better one.” Kurt looked up at Blaine, blinking. “You really are amazing, you know that? What high school kid makes his boyfriend an origami ring?” 

Blaine blushed. “I have many talents, I suppose.”

“You do.” Kurt smiled at Blaine, his eyes wide. “But you’re right, I can live without that ring. Now, I’ve got you.”

Before Blaine could think of how to respond to that (“you do, forever and ever,” was what he wanted to say, but he managed not to let those words fall out quite yet), Kurt yawned, surprising them both.

“Sorry,” Kurt stuttered out, covering his mouth. “Didn’t mean to ruin the moment. But I guess it’s getting late.” 

“Time to go to sleep, then,” Blaine said, feeling a little nervous. “You can take the bed, I’ll sleep on the couch, it’s really comfy –“

“Don’t be silly, Blaine, I’m not kicking you out of your bed.” Kurt stood up and held his hand out to Blaine. “Besides, you said this was a sleepover. And since when do people having a sleepover sleep in different rooms?”

Blaine grinned, trying not to show how excited he was that Kurt was going to be sleeping in his bed, even if they were completely platonic. “I suppose sleeping in different rooms would it make it too hard to paint our nails and gossip about boys, right?”

“Exactly.”

A few minutes later, their mugs cleaned up and put away, they stood awkwardly in Blaine’s room. “Okay, well, why don’t I wash up first, and you can change. All my sleep stuff is in that middle drawer, just wear whatever you want.” Blaine waved his hand towards his dresser. He silently thanked his mother for getting him in the habit of keeping his things neat – if he had known Kurt was going to be in his room tonight, he would have straightened up a little bit more, but it wasn’t too bad.

When Blaine finished in the bathroom, he found Kurt sitting on the edge of his bed, typing on his phone. He had on a worn navy Dalton t-shirt which was a little too small for him, and Blaine’s striped sleep pants. “Kurt? Do you want me to get you a shirt from Sam? He won’t mind.”

Kurt looked up. “Nope,” he said, crossing his arms and rubbing the sleeves of the old shirt, a fond expression on his face. “This one’s so soft. I can’t believe you still have it.”

“It’s a little ragged, but it still works,” Blaine said softly, sitting down next to Kurt. “Um, I left a fresh toothbrush on the sink for you. Use whatever products you want, between me and Sam we’ve got quite a few to choose from.”

“Does Sam still use that cinnamon toothpaste? I never did figure that out, it always made me think of brushing my teeth with apple cider, or cinnamon buns, or something.”

Blaine forgot sometimes that Sam had lived with Kurt for the better part of a year back in high school. “Yeah, he still does. But my minty stuff is there too, don’t worry.”

Kurt leaned against Blaine for a moment, his arm warm against Blaine’s side. He looked as if he wanted to say something, but apparently changed his mind as he just smiled and got up and went into the bathroom. 

Blaine exhaled, tense, and quickly shed his clothes. Not that Kurt hadn’t seen him naked before, but he just wanted to get his pajamas on before he came back in the room. He shouldn’t have worried, it turned out, as Kurt seemed to be taking forever in the bathroom. Blaine had pulled on gray sleep pants and a light blue t-shirt, folded his clothes, put everything away, and then sat for a few minutes staring at his wheelchair in the corner of the room. It was too late to try to put it away in a closet or something, or throw it out the window. He was just going to have to ignore it. Maybe with the lights off….

Just as he was turning off the lights and switching on the nightlight in the outlet by the door, Kurt returned, setting his neatly folded dance clothes down on Blaine’s dresser. He glanced quickly at Blaine and then scampered onto the bed, sliding all the way under the covers and pulling them up over his head.

“Kurt?” Blaine climbed on the bed, perched on his knees, and lifted the edge of the blanket. “Where’d you go?”

Blaine heard Kurt giggle from under the covers, and just like that, he relaxed. Maybe it didn’t have to be awkward after all. He slipped under the covers too, pulling them up over his head, so he and Kurt were in the dark, their giggles loud in their ears. He felt Kurt’s hand come to rest on his waist, and Kurt slid closer until his head was resting on Blaine’s chest, Blaine shifting on to his back as they curled together into each other, this position as familiar as a favorite day dream.

“This is good, right?” Kurt said quietly, his fingers gently moving along Blaine’s side.

“Yeah. Really good.” Blaine rested his hand on Kurt’s shoulder, letting his fingers move over the frayed collar of his shirt to Kurt’s smooth skin underneath. Blaine recognized this Kurt so well, this peaceful mood, when what he wanted most was just to take comfort from being together, no matter what was going on around them. It was heavenly.

“Thank you for letting me stay here tonight,” Kurt said. “This is perfect.”

 _I love you,_ Blaine wanted to say, but he didn’t. The moment was perfect, and he didn’t want to ruin it by going too fast. He hoped that was where they were both headed, but he wasn’t in any rush. Instead he continued moving his hand over Kurt’s shoulder, tracing his collarbone with his thumb, enjoying the weight of Kurt’s head on his chest.

There were footsteps in the hall, and then the sound of a door opening and closing, followed by more footsteps.

“Is Sam going somewhere?” Kurt asked, pushing the blanket down so that he could see.

“No. He’s up a lot at night. He’s probably just checking the door to make sure it’s locked.” Blaine pulled back a little to face Kurt. “I should warn you, sometimes Sam has really bad nightmares. They come and go, I’m just kind of used to it.”

Kurt looked concerned, and he took Blaine’s hand in his, winding their fingers together. “From the accident?”

“Yeah. Sam wasn’t hurt that badly when the bus crashed, but he was pinned under something. He had to wait there for the paramedics to get him out, and I guess there were a lot of us around him who were in pretty bad shape. They had to work on the people who were hurt worse first….” Blaine trailed off. It had taken Sam a long time to tell him about what he saw that night, and it was terrible. He couldn’t imagine what it must have been like for Sam, but the frequency of his nightmares gave him some idea.

“He had to see all of you there, in pain, and he couldn’t do anything about it,” Kurt said, biting his lip. “Where were you?” he asked softly.

“Well, I don’t remember anything about the accident. But I had been sitting next to Sam on the bus. He told me I was bleeding and he could see that my leg was all messed up. And apparently I was moaning or something, but then I stopped. Ryder told me later that Sam was really freaking out, trying to get me to wake up, but he couldn’t pull his foot out from whatever was trapping him, so he couldn’t get close enough to me to see if I was breathing or not.” Blaine took a deep breath. “God, this is awful, Kurt, you don’t need to hear this.”

“I want to hear whatever you want to tell me,” he said quietly, looking intently into Blaine’s eyes and giving his hand a squeeze. 

Blaine nodded, thinking. “I feel bad, sometimes, that I can’t help Sam more. I feel like his nightmares should have stopped by now. I don’t know what to do.”

“Is he still seeing a therapist?”

“Not really. He really liked the one from Kentucky best, and he calls her once in a while. I’ve thought about bringing it up – he could find someone through health services at NYU, it wouldn’t cost him anything.”

“Have you talked to him about it?”

Blaine sighed. “No, and I know I should. But I don’t want him to think that I mind, that I’m tired of him waking me up or something. I know that sounds stupid….”

“It doesn’t sound stupid.”

“I don’t want to make him feel worse, like he has to change.” Blaine took Kurt’s hand and it held up against his chest, playing with his fingers. “You probably don’t remember, but back during my senior year, Sam once said to me that we were like brothers. At the time, it didn’t seem to match up with how I felt, because I was in the middle of crushing on him, and my feelings weren’t particularly brotherly. But now...” Blaine chose his words carefully, hoping that this was going to come out right, “I told Sam the other day that he and I were a package deal. That no matter what happens with you and me, that I wasn’t leaving him. And I meant it. He’s helped me so much, Kurt. I need you to know how much he means to me.”

Kurt’s eyes were tearing up, which Blaine didn’t really understand. He thought he was going to be the one to cry this time. “Of course, Blaine. Of course. I wouldn’t want anything different. You guys have always looked out for each other.” Kurt sniffed a little, then slid closer to Blaine, his face pressed against his neck. “If Sam helped you even half as much as you say he did, then he’s my hero. He took care of you when I couldn’t. And if he’s still recovering from this whole mess, well, I think we’re all in the same boat.”

“So maybe we can all help each other?” Blaine asked, smiling softly and wrapping his arms around Kurt.

“Obviously. But if you start singing ‘get by with a little help from my friends,’ I’m out of here.”

“Oh, Kurt, why must you stifle my creative urges?”

“You better stifle your urges, buddy. I’m exhausted, and it’s almost 2 a.m. Now snuggle me until I fall asleep.”

\-------

Sometime later that night, Blaine heard Sam’s tentative voice. "Blaine?" Blaine didn't need to open his eyes to know what was going on. He reached out for Sam, but was weighed down by something. Not something, someone - Kurt - who was curled up against his side, a heavy arm slung across his waist. Well, this was going to be complicated. 

"Sam? Hang on," Blaine tried to figure out how to say "I'm being held down by my adorably passed out ex-fiancé, so I can't come watch the Hobbit in the middle of the night with you," but his brain was still too fuzzy to get there.

Sam opened Blaine's door further, the light from the hallway spilling over the bed. "Oh, sorry, dude. I forgot Kurt was here." Sam had his arms wrapped around himself, his hair sticking out every which way. He looked young and nervous, like he always did after a nightmare. It made Blaine's heart clench, every time, to see his friend like this. "Don’t get up, I’m fine.”

Not once had Blaine turned Sam away after a nightmare. He wasn't going to make Sam sit and shiver by himself, not when he had a choice. "No, wait," Blaine began, struggling to disentangle himself from the blankets and Kurt. He tried to slide out from under Kurt and get up off the bed, but before he knew it his foot was caught and he landed in a heap on the floor. 

"Blaine!" Sam was next to him instantly, straightening out his leg, sitting him up. "Shit, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to make you fall," Sam was breathing harder, upset with himself now on top of everything else.

"Sam, it's okay. I'm not hurt, I just fell out of bed, onto a very soft rug." Blaine tried to catch Sam's eye but failed, and opted to just pull him into a hug. "Sammy, you're okay. We're both okay." Sam was shaking now, clinging to Blaine, his breathing speeding up. Blaine ignored the pain in his leg and focused on stroking Sam’s back, holding him close.

"Are you guys okay?" Blaine heard Kurt asking, his voice low and concerned. Blaine looked up as Kurt scooted to the edge of the bed.

"Sam had a nightmare, I was getting up, and I fell out of bed," Blaine said. Best to stick to the facts, he figured. "We're all right." He was rubbing circles on Sam's back, and this seemed to be helping. "Sam? Can you breathe with me? A little slower?" 

Blaine felt Sam nodding. He kept his head next to Sam’s, aware of Kurt watching them, but not sure what to say.

“Why don’t you guys come on up here, you don’t look very comfortable,” Kurt said, scooting back and holding the edge of the blanket up.

Blaine saw Sam look up in surprise, first at Kurt, then at him. Well done, Hummel, he thought. “Sam, help me up?”

Sam obediently got to his feet, pulling Blaine with him. Blaine slid under the covers next to Kurt, motioning to Sam until he sat down on the bed. 

Kurt’s shoulder and arm pressed softly against Blaine’s side as Blaine scooted over to make room for Sam. Kurt didn’t seem to mind, in fact, he was remarkably calm. Sam was still sitting on the edge of the bed, hesitant. “Come here, Sam,” Blaine said, tugging him down against him. “It’s a sleepover, right, Kurt?”

“Right. I missed those new New Directions sleepovers, but I’ve heard all about them. I know how popular Blaine’s cuddles are.”

Sam shrugged, burrowing down into the pillow, facing Blaine with one hand tucked up under his head, the other resting against Blaine’s arm, fingers just touching the bare skin under the edge of his sleeve. “I’m a good cuddler too,” he mumbled.

“You are, Sam,” Blaine agreed, and Kurt nodded against his shoulder. 

“Maybe you guys learned from each other,” Kurt said, reaching over Blaine to rub Sam’s arm, pressing ever closer against Blaine in order to reach Sam. Sam seemed to have calmed down considerably, his breath evening out. After a few minutes during which Blaine pondered the very bizarreness of his life, with Kurt curled around him, consoling his best friend, Kurt pulled his arm back and shifted to face the ceiling. 

“This is giving me déjà vu,” Kurt said softly, his fingers finding Blaine’s hand under the covers.

“Oh?” Blaine wondered for a brief and entirely inappropriate moment if Kurt had ever thought about a threesome with him and Sam, but then realized that wasn’t what déjà vu meant, at least not in this context.

“The night of the accident, my dad called me from the hospital in Lima. He told me about Finn, and that you were in surgery,” Kurt gave Blaine’s hand a squeeze, “and how so many of you were hurt. He had tried to get in touch with Rachel’s dads, but it was really late, and they weren’t answering their phone. I had to tell Rachel about Finn. I barely knew what I was doing, I couldn’t believe it myself, but he told me I had to tell her.” Kurt’s voice was tight, but he kept going. “First I told Santana, and then we went into Rachel’s room. She was in the middle of painting her nails some ridiculous bright red color… we told her what happened, and I went to hug her, and she just started screaming about ruining her nail polish, hysterical. Santana finally grabbed her and wiped it all off, and we both climbed into her bed and stayed there together for the rest of the night.” Kurt took a deep, shaking breath. “Hence the déjà vu.”

“Kurt. You never told me about that,” Blaine said softly, turning to face him. 

Sam leaned up on his elbow, looking over at Kurt. “It’s good that you guys had each other,” he said seriously, but then broke into a smirk. “But I bet Rachel isn’t as good a cuddler as Blaine.” Sam squeezed Blaine and rubbed his face into his hair, as if to emphasize his point.

Blaine groaned. “It’s just because you all like to play with my crazy hair, isn’t it.” Blaine smiled as Sam ruffled his hair with his fingers, pretending to pat it back into place. Blaine had eased up on the gel considerably since the accident – first because there was little point during all that time in the hospital, and then, among other things, because it turned out that he really liked it when Sam played with his hair. It had been pretty awesome the night before when Kurt did it too.

“Mmm. And because you’re so warm,” Kurt replied, snuggling into Blaine’s shoulder. 

“We should all get together when Rachel’s out here,” Sam said. “We could make dinner. Although, if she’s still doing that crazy vegetarian thing or whatever, I don’t know what we’d make. She probably wouldn’t like my chili. Although we could make it with just beans….”

When no one responded, Sam poked Blaine. “What? I’ll cook if you want. Rachel’s great, and I haven’t seen in her forever.”

“I didn’t realize you kept in touch with Rachel,” Kurt said quietly.

“Well, mostly on Facebook. But Mercedes told me she was going to be here soon for a show or something. I didn’t get all the details. Didn’t she tell you?”

“Actually, I haven’t talked to her in a while. A really long time.”

“Sorry, man, I didn’t know.” Sam paused, apparently thinking. “Is it because you don’t want to talk to her? Or, you know, did things just get messed up?”

“The second,” Kurt said softly.

“Well, then this is the perfect opportunity for a do over. And with all of the other awkward going on between you and Blaine, whatever’s up with you and Rachel will just seem normal.”

“Can I think about it?”

“Of course, dude. It’s three in the morning. I probably won’t even remember we had this conversation.” Sam rolled over, facing away from Blaine and scrunching the pillow up under his head. “And I think Blaine’s asleep.”

“Am not,” Blaine mumbled. At least, he didn’t think he was. On the other hand, given the events of the past few hours, it made much more sense that it was all just a dream.


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> AU after 5x02. When the New Directions’ bus crashes before Nationals, Finn is killed and Blaine is badly injured. Grieving and damaged, Kurt and Blaine call off their engagement. Two years after the tragedy, they run into each other in New York City. Klaine; Blam friendship.
> 
> Warnings for past character death (Finn), discussion of depression, injuries.

Kurt stood outside Blaine’s apartment door, fidgeting with the package in his hands. The past two days had gone by in a blur of relief and anticipation. There hadn’t been any damage to his place at all – the kitchen fire and resultant soaking had been on the other side of the building, and Kurt had gotten worked up for nothing. In his excitement, Kurt had gone shopping – a dangerous pastime I know, he imagined Blaine commenting when he found out. And now he wasn’t sure if the gift would be welcome at all, or just another opportunity for him to put his foot in his mouth. But he couldn’t stand here dithering in the hallway any longer. The NYADA fundraiser was tonight, and if he didn’t get there on time, Carmen Tibideaux would have his head.

Kurt knocked on the door and was immediately admitted by Sam, who complimented his aquamarine ascot. “That’s a great color, it really brings out your eyes.” Kurt felt a surge of affection for Sam, and gave him a warm hug, finding that Sam eagerly squeezed him back in return.

Kurt took a moment to check his hair in the hall mirror – Sam’s hugs had a tendency to knock things out of place – but it was still coiffed to perfection, defying the summer heat. He turned at Sam’s wolf whistle to see Blaine coming down the hallway.

“Dude, you look hot!” Sam exclaimed. Kurt had to agree. Blaine was wearing a slim black suit with a deep purple shirt and a long cerulean blue tie. He had donned proper shoes for the occasion, and Kurt could see a glimpse of purple socks that matched his shirt. Blaine’s hair was gelled back enough to tame but not completely eliminate his curls, resulting in that 1950’s Hollywood dreamboat style that Kurt loved.

“I think that’s my line.” Kurt went to Blaine and gave him a quick kiss, letting a hand rest on his narrow waist. “You look ridiculously handsome,” he whispered in his ear.

Blaine smiled and looked Kurt up and down. “You don’t look so bad yourself.” Kurt was pleased that he had gone for the vest and suit jacket combination. They made an awfully good looking couple, if he did say so himself.

“Smile!” They both looked up as Sam appeared in front of them, holding up his phone. “What? You guys look awesome. And my mom’s been dying for pictures, we haven’t sent her any in ages.” 

“Can you text that to me?” Kurt asked. “I’d like to send it to my dad.”

“You told your dad about us?” Blaine asked. 

Kurt nodded. “Is that okay?” The topic of whether to tell their families that they were dating again hadn’t come up, and Kurt hoped he hadn’t overstepped. He shouldn’t have worried, however, if the grin that spread over Blaine’s face was any indication.

“Yeah. Definitely. I told my parents too.” Blaine bounced a little on his toes, beaming. Kurt smiled back, wondering if maybe Blaine’s parents weren’t as mad at him as he had assumed they were.

“Man, you two are so freaking cute,” Sam said, snapping another picture. “It’s like I can see the little Disney birds flying all around your heads.” He squeezed in between Blaine and Kurt and took a selfie of all three of them together, then put his camera in his pocket and picked up his guitar. “I’ve got to run. Open mic. You guys have fun tonight – but be back before midnight, Blaine, or your cane will turn into a pumpkin.” Sam gave Blaine a quick slap on the shoulder and headed out of the apartment.

Kurt took a deep breath. “Speaking of canes… I got you something.” He picked up the long package he had left by the door and gave it to Blaine, who sat down on the arm of the couch to unwrap it. “I saw this yesterday and thought you might like it. You don’t have to use it, ever, if you don’t want to.” Kurt watched Blaine’s face carefully as he took the silvery paper off the elegant cane. It was shining ebony wood, dark brown with subtle black streaks. Its handle was shaped much like the one Blaine already used, but with a small braided pewter collar at the top of the shaft.

“I get that we don’t always have the same approach to things. I’m more likely to flaunt what makes me different. I know you don’t want to draw attention to your leg, but if it were me, I’d take it as an opportunity for a fabulous accessory. And this one is pretty subdued, as far as my potential accessories go.” Kurt tried to catch Blaine’s eyes, but they were still fixed on the cane. “I promise you, my feelings won’t be hurt if you don’t use it – but I wanted to let you know that as far as I’m concerned, there’s nothing you need to hide.” 

Blaine turned the cane in his hands, feeling the smooth wood and tracing over the braided detail at the top. When he looked up at Kurt, his eyes were wide. “It’s beautiful, Kurt. Thank you.” Blaine stood and tapped the cane down next to him, testing it out. “And it’s perfect for tonight.”

“I thought so too.” Kurt breathed out a sigh of relief. He didn’t screw up. Blaine liked it. “I’m so glad you’re not mad.”

“I’m definitely not mad. I’m touched.” Blaine gave Kurt a soft kiss, lingering for a moment to press his forehead against Kurt’s. “With a gorgeous cane like this, it’s almost worth needing one.” Blaine grinned, eyes shining. “Now, I understand you have an important performance to get to. Shall we go?”

They took a cab to the party, Kurt insisting that there was no way he was going to take the subway and show up all sweaty with his outfit ruined. The evening’s festivities were hosted by a wealthy alumnus who had an apartment on the Upper East Side big enough for the hundred or so guests to gather. The expansive living room had been set up with a grand piano by the long windows, where someone was playing show tunes as waiters circulated with drinks and hors d'oeuvres. 

A glance at Blaine as they entered the crowded room showed that he had his show face firmly plastered on, but Kurt could tell he was nervous. “I’ve got to find Ms. Tibideaux and check in, then we can just hang out for a while. The performances don’t start for about an hour.”

“Good evening, Mr. Hummel, glad you could join us.” Kurt was spared the effort of having to find his professor when she appeared in front of him, with that look on her face that always seem to imply that she knew something that he didn’t.

“Hello, Ms. Tibideaux,” he began, wondering how he could still be intimidated by her after almost three years. “This is Blaine Anderson-” Before he could finish the introduction, Ms. Tibideaux interrupted him.

“Hello again, Mr. Anderson. I didn’t know you knew Mr. Hummel.”

Blaine smiled shyly. “For quite a while, actually.”

“Well, it’s nice to see you again so soon. Stop by and talk to me when you have a chance.” Ms. Tibideaux turned to Kurt. “Please be in the kitchen at quarter to nine, we’ll run through any last minute details then.” She turned away imperiously, leaving Kurt staring at Blaine.

“Mr. Anderson?” Kurt emphasized the words, drawing them out. “Do you have something you’d like to tell me?” Kurt tried to smile as he spoke, but couldn’t help feeling a little put out. How the hell did Carmen Tibideaux know Blaine so well?

Blaine looked down, obviously catching the uncertain tone in Kurt’s voice. “I may have taken a class through the NYADA extension school last semester.” 

“You may have, huh?” Kurt took pity on Blaine, whose nerves were showing now. He hadn’t done anything wrong. Kurt certainly hadn’t told Blaine every little detail of the past few years of his life, so Kurt couldn’t expect to know everything about Blaine’s, either. Kurt took Blaine’s free hand and led them over to where some chairs and small tables had been set up. “Was it her vocal techniques class?” Blaine nodded. “You know that’s one of the few audition-only classes at the extension school. You must have really impressed her.”

Blaine shrugged. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.”

Kurt waved it off. “It didn’t come up. There’s lots of stuff we haven’t talked about yet. But I am curious to hear about it.”

After a few minutes they were joined by Cora and Nate, two of the other NYADA students who were performing that night. Kurt grimaced as Cora monopolized Blaine, shooting him an apologetic look as she proceeded to tell him a detailed story about how upset she was with her last set of headshots, posing and making faces to demonstrate her point. He could see Blaine growing uncomfortable, but soon realized it wasn’t because of Cora, it was the fact that Nate had shifted so close to Blaine that he was almost in his lap, and had begun to touch his arm for emphasis quite a bit more frequently than was necessary.

“My, look at the time,” Kurt said, speaking over Cora, and moving to stand in between Nate and Blaine. He placed a possessive a hand on Blaine’s shoulder. “I’m sorry I have to leave you, baby, but we’ve got to go get ready.” He leaned in close to whisper in Blaine’s ear. “Mind a little PDA, clear things up?” 

“Not at all,” Blaine said, whispering back. “Kiss for good luck?” Blaine said out loud, tilting his head up and puckering his lips adorably. 

Kurt planted a firm kiss on Blaine’s lips, his hand going to the back of Blaine’s neck, Blaine’s hand finding Kurt’s waist and pulling him closer. “Mmm, I think that was a very lucky kiss,” Kurt murmured.

“Not like you need luck,” Blaine said. “Go on, show ‘em how it’s done.”

Kurt leaned in to kiss Blaine again, and Cora grabbed Kurt’s arm. “We get the point, lover boy.” She turned to Blaine and smiled mischievously. “I have got to get to you know better. You deserve some kind of award - this one’s been pining ever since I met him. Don’t know how you got him to forget about his lost love, but kudos to you.”

Kurt looked helplessly over his shoulder as Cora dragged him away, Blaine bursting out into a hearty laugh. Well, at least if his classmates were going to embarrass him, they were entertaining Blaine in the process.

\------

Kurt thought the performances were going well. He had a good time singing “Agony” from _Into the Woods_ with Nate, and Cora nailed “Ladies Who Lunch” from _Company._ A freshman named Luke did an admirable job with “Corner of the Sky” from _Pippin,_ and then it was time for Kurt’s solo. He had agonized a bit over his selection, deciding in the end to go for something with a bit of humor in it. 

_Don't throw bouquets at me_  
 _Don't please my folks too much_  
 _Don't laugh at my jokes too much_  
 _People will say we're in love._

_Don't sigh and gaze at me_  
 _Your sighs are so like mine_  
 _Your eyes mustn't glow like mine_  
 _People will say we're in love._

As he finished up, directing the last verse at Blaine, he couldn’t help but preen a little. Blaine was this very minute displaying the patented heart eyes that gave away how much he loved Kurt, just like the song said. Kurt blew him a little kiss as everyone applauded, not caring a bit if everyone knew who the song was for. He stood aside for the last song, waiting patiently as Cora and a sophomore girl performed “Take Me or Leave Me” from Rent.

As the song neared the end, Carmen Tibideaux materialized behind Kurt. “We’re finishing a little too early. I don’t want the crowds to get restless and leave yet. Do you mind doing another number?” 

“Of course not,” Kurt said automatically, thinking that Ms. Tibideaux must enjoy doing this to him. Apparently he gave off some kind of signal that said “please ask me to sing unrehearsed.” She suggested a song they had worked on towards the end of the semester, however, and Kurt realized it would be perfect. It was jazzier than their other numbers, but a Broadway favorite nonetheless.

_Couldn't sleep and wouldn't sleep_  
 _When love came and told me I shouldn't sleep_  
 _Bewitched, bothered and bewildered am I_

Kurt caught Blaine’s eye but didn’t linger. The song called for a sexy, sultry approach, and he was halfway afraid that if Blaine smirked at him he’d start laughing. He was no Ella Fitzgerald, but he could do a pretty good job with this song now. He’d come a long way since his baby penguin days.

_I've sinned a lot; I'm mean a lot_  
 _But I'm like sweet seventeen a lot_  
 _Bewitched, bothered, and bewildered am I_

Finally he was done, and the crowd was on its feet, including Blaine. Kurt said a few thank you’s and quickly headed back to their table, where Blaine pulled him into a tight hug.

“You are amazing, Kurt,” he said breathlessly, pulling back to look him in the eye. “You were born for this. Seriously.” Blaine kissed him hard and fast, then reached down to grab Kurt’s hand and hold it to his own chest, the corners of his mouth twitching up just a little at the familiar gesture. “I am so proud of you.”

Kurt felt himself blushing as Blaine snagged two glasses of champagne from a passing waiter and handed one to Kurt. “To you,” Blaine said, clinking his glass with Kurt’s.

“To us,” Kurt replied, basking for a moment in Blaine’s gaze. After a moment he quickly drank down the champagne, and Blaine did the same. Kurt held out his hand. “Dance with me?”

A nervous look flickered across Blaine’s face, but it didn’t stop him from accepting Kurt’s invitation. “I’d love to.”

Blaine left his cane propped against the table and they made their way out to the dance floor. It was fairly crowded with people dancing and enjoying the piano player, who was continuing the Broadway theme of the evening, playing shows tunes old and new. Blaine pulled Kurt close, and sighed as they came together, slowly swaying to the music.

“I love this song.” Blaine sang softly into Kurt’s ear. _“Ten minutes ago I saw you, I looked up when you walked through the door. My head started reeling, you gave me the feeling, the room had no ceiling or floor.”_ He nuzzled his head against Kurt’s neck, and Kurt shivered. “Too bad I can’t waltz with you.”

“I have images right now of you as the King of Siam with your head shaved and me in a billowing satin dress, spinning around to ‘I could have danced all night,’” Kurt said lightly. “It’s kind of amusing, actually.”

Blaine laughed softly in response. “That’s not what I meant.” He gave a little sigh. “I just always wanted to play the prince in that show. Rodgers and Hammerstein’s Cinderella, that is, not The King and I.”

“You’ll always be a prince to me, waltz or no waltz,” Kurt said, stroking Blaine’s chin with his finger and giving him a soft kiss. “And you’re not doing too badly right now.”

They weren’t moving very fast, but with Kurt’s hands firmly on Blaine’s lower back, and Blaine’s arms around Kurt’s shoulders, they were dancing together quite smoothly. 

“This does feel awfully good,” Blaine said, smiling up at Kurt. “I haven’t danced in years, you know. Literally, years.”

“Guess it’s like riding a bicycle.”

“No, it’s definitely a lot nicer than riding a bicycle.” Blaine laid his head on Kurt’s shoulder, then chuckled. “Your friends are pretty curious about us.”

Kurt turned them so he could see Cora and Nate, busily gossiping with Luke and a taller boy he didn’t know.

“Well, I’m not usually the most social person.”

“No duets with hot NYADA boys?”

“Assuming ‘duets’ is code for dates, no duets with any boys.” Kurt hesitated, wondering how much he should say. “There was one hook up with a guy I met at a bar, and I was so drunk I barely remember it. And that was it.”

“I find that hard to believe,” Blaine said tentatively. “I’ve counted at least four men here at this party that would jump you in an instant.”

“I’m pretty sure you know it wasn’t that no one was interested,” Kurt said. “I just wasn’t interested in anyone back.”

“Besides Bruce?” Blaine was teasing, and Kurt couldn’t help but catch the smile on his face. Blaine certainly didn’t mind that he hadn’t had another boyfriend. Kurt couldn’t blame him, really.

“It’s not nice to make fun of my solo status, Blaine,” Kurt teased back. “What about you? How many cute NYU boys have needed some individual tutoring after class?”

“Exactly zero. And in addition to the fact that I have had way more problems than I could deal with over the past few years, it turns out that Artie might have given us an unrealistic experience of dating while in a wheelchair. I wasn’t exactly turning heads.”

Kurt rubbed Blaine’s back comfortingly. He suspected Blaine was in fact turning heads, wheelchair or no, but he was probably too self-conscious to notice. And his twenty-four hour a day superhero bodyguard couldn’t have helped matters. “Plus, you had Sam.”

Blaine stiffened a little bit in Kurt’s arms. “What do you mean?” 

Shit, foot in mouth again. “I’m not saying anything romantic was going on between you. Just that from the outside, a potential suitor might well assume that you were together, and hold off on approaching you. Due to the gorgeous, hunky blond firmly attached to your side.”

“Oh, all right, that’s fair.” Blaine relaxed. “Whatever happened to Adam?”

“Adam?”

“Yeah, you know, the guy you dated your first year at NYADA? Doctor Who?”

“What, did you get all your intel from Santana?” Kurt laughed. “I seem to remember telling you once before that that was over.”

“I know. I just wondered if maybe you might have seen him again, after….”

“I haven’t seen Adam since he graduated and went back to England two years ago.” He pulled Blaine tighter against him and breathed into his hair. “Honestly, you have nothing to worry about. Cora was right. I’ve been pining after my lost love, and now I’ve found him again. End of story.”

“I like this story,” Blaine said, planting a sweet kiss on Kurt’s cheek. “I like it very, very much. But unfortunately, my leg is killing me and I think I may be about to turn into a pumpkin. Any chance the story can have an epilogue back at my place?”

Kurt laughed, his heart overflowing. No ceiling or floor, indeed. “Your wish is my command, my prince.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kurt sings “People Will Say We’re In Love” from _Oklahoma,_ and “Bewitched, Bothered and Bewildered” from _Pal Joey_. I’m curious – are you, the people reading this fic, familiar with these Broadway references? I’m a bit of a musical theater junkie (and for the whole time I was writing this chapter, and every time I proof it, I get “Ten Minutes Ago” stuck in my head again). Please comment, or come say hi on Tumblr (flowerfan2).


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> AU after 5x02. When the New Directions’ bus crashes before Nationals, Finn is killed and Blaine is badly injured. Grieving and damaged, Kurt and Blaine call off their engagement. Two years after the tragedy, they run into each other in New York City. Klaine; Blam friendship.
> 
> Warnings for past character death (Finn), discussion of depression, injuries.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If it isn’t apparent by now, the bolded text indicates texts…

**From Blaine: Sam and I are making Friday night fajitas for dinner. Want to come over?**

**From Kurt: Sure! What can I bring? I make a mean sangria, if that's appropriate. And maybe some dessert?**

**From Blaine: What could be inappropriate about sangria?**

**From Kurt: You clearly haven't seen Santana drink it... But seriously, I thought maybe you didn't drink. Until the champagne at the NYADA party. But either way is fine with me.**

Blaine paused before typing out his response, not sure how much to say. Since the night in the garden (the magic garden, he called it in his head) he had felt like he could say anything to Kurt. All of the mountains of problems he thought would come in between them were starting to seem like gentle rolling hills, obstacles that could be overcome with just a harder push on the pedals. When Kurt gave him the ebony cane, he expected to be embarrassed, had prepared himself for that rush of shame that always seemed to accompany the topic of his disability. But instead he just saw a beautiful gift, and felt Kurt's genuine acceptance, and he couldn't help but be happy about it. Surely he could fill Kurt in on the reasons he and Sam didn't drink as much as stereotypical college students.

**From Kurt: Blaine? Did I say something wrong?**

**From Blaine: No, not at all, sorry. You're right that we usually don't drink. Sam and I had an unfortunate evening of tequila last fall, and we decided afterwards that there were just a few too many strikes against us (grief, history of depression, sleep problems, etc. etc.) that might turn casual drinking into something else. But we do drink sometimes, and sangria tonight would be great.**

**From Kurt: I think I might need braces again soon.**

**From Blaine: ??**

**From Kurt: Because I keep putting my foot in my mouth. It's bound to affect my teeth at some point.**

**From Blaine: It's really okay (and how come I didn't know you had braces?)**

**From Kurt: Because all the pictures of me with braces have been burned, obviously.**

**From Blaine: I did notice a strange gap in your father's "Kurt Through The Years" photo album around age twelve.**

**From Kurt: I wasn't kidding when I said I burned them. And when did you see that photo album?**

**From Blaine: Can I tell you later? It's kind of a story.**

**From Kurt: Should I be nervous?**

**From Blaine: No, please don't be nervous.**

**From Blaine: I can't wait to see you tonight, by the way.**

**From Kurt: Me too. See you then?**

**From Blaine: Hasta la vista.**

That afternoon Sam went to the grocery store while Blaine vacuumed and straightened up. He had volunteered to go with Sam, but Sam said he didn't mind going by himself, and slipped out before Blaine could argue. It was clear that something was bothering Sam. He wasn't sure what it was - he had seemed fine after the sleepover with Kurt, and they had spent the next afternoon practicing for an open mic night, having a blast going over some of their old favorite songs to sing together. But today Sam was decidedly grumpy.

When Sam got back from the store, they started on the prep work, slicing up a pile of red and green peppers and chopping onions. Blaine put on some music, but Sam didn't even respond when "Wake Me Up Before You Go Go" came up on his playlist. It was time for an intervention.

When they had set the table and checked the apartment for dirty socks one last time, Blaine thought he'd ask Sam to play video games with him, and then casually ask him what was wrong. It had worked before, so much so that Sam sometimes gave him a knowing look when he took out the controllers. But before he had a chance, Sam was heading down the hallway to his room. "Gonna take a nap before Kurt gets here, okay?" Sam didn't even wait for Blaine's answer before closing his door.

After a minute of indecision, Blaine grabbed his new cane, taking a moment to run a finger over the braid work, and followed Sam. He knocked softly on the door, then eased it open. "Sam? Can I join you?"

Sam was already in bed, curled up facing away from the door, his blond hair barely visible over the top of his dark green comforter. Sam's room was neat and organized, his desk arranged carefully under a big white board where he kept track of his calendar and assignments. It helped him to see everything laid out, a strategy his tutor had showed him. 

The only response Blaine got to his question was a movement from under the covers that was probably a shrug. "I'll take that as a yes," Blaine said under his breath, and slid under the warm blanket with Sam. When they first moved here they used to take naps together almost every day, Blaine finding that the sheer effort of wheeling himself around the city exhausted him, and he could do a much better job on his homework if he rested first. Sam had always been more than willing to keep him company. But they didn't do it much anymore.

Blaine put his hand on Sam's back, between his shoulder blades, wanting a physical connection between them. When Sam didn't protest, he slid his hand up to the back of his neck and started gently massaging the tight muscles there. After a few minutes he felt Sam relax. 

"Please tell me what's wrong, Sam," he said softly. 

Sam shook his head. Blaine almost asked him if it had anything to do with Kurt, and then it dawned on him, looking at Sam curled up in his blankets in the middle of the day. Sam could hardly be giving him a bigger hint.

"Are you tired?"

"Duh," Sam said irritably.

"Is it the nightmares?"

Sam didn't answer, but he turned over and butted his head against Blaine's chest. Blaine put his arms around Sam and squeezed him tightly. "I knew you were getting them more often. I'm so sorry, Sam."

"Don't be sorry. There's nothing you can do," Sam mumbled.

"That's not true, I should have said something."

"How’s that going to help? You already practically rock me to sleep," Sam snapped, his frustration evident. "Why can't I grow up and get over this?" 

"Don't do that to yourself. You know it doesn't have anything to do with growing up." Blaine pushed Sam's hair out of his face and let his hand rest on the back of his head. "When's the last time you talked to Betsy?" Blaine wished he had brought up the subject of Sam talking to his therapist sooner, but late would have to be better than never in this case.

Another shrug. "Maybe you can give her a call, and set up a time to see her when we go visit your family?" 

"You’re still coming with me?" Sam asked, his voice rough. Blaine's heart ached. Maybe some of Sam's mood had a little to do with Kurt after all.

"Of course I am. I wouldn't miss Fourth of July fireworks with your family for the world. Plus, Stacie said she'd make me her turtle brownies. You know how much I like caramel."

"But New York has a huge fireworks show. Like, the biggest."

"Sam Evans, I know exactly what you're thinking, and you're wrong. I am going home with you for the Fourth, just like we planned. I can hang out with Kurt anytime." Please, please let that be as true as it seems to be, he thought. "Do you really think I'd skip out on a Blam fourth?"

Sam looked up at Blaine, his eyes teary. "I'm sorry, Blaine. I'm just so tired."

"I know, Sammy, it's okay." Blaine rubbed Sam's arm comfortingly, and then craned his head around to look at the white board on the wall. "You don't have to work at the gym Monday, right?"

"I don't think so."

"Well, we have a date, then."

"I think you're confusing me with someone else," Sam said dejectedly.

"Nope, it's definitely you. Monday we're going to the NYU student health center, and finding you someone to talk with right here in New York. There’s got to be something to do about your bad dreams besides give up on sleeping. Okay?"

"That's a sucky date, dude."

"Yeah, well, I'm saving my good date ideas for guys that will put out."

Sam burst out laughing and kept going helplessly, tears leaking from his eyes. Blaine laughed too, as much in relief as anything else, both of them finally clutching their stomachs and groaning. 

"Fine, you win. I'll go on your crappy date, B." Sam gave Blaine a crushing hug and a hard kiss to the side of his head, then turned over and curled up, hands tucked under his pillow. "Wake me up when Kurt gets here."

"Will do." Blaine slid out of Sam's bed and grabbed his cane, whistling "Wake Me Up Before You Go Go" as he closed Sam's door behind him.

\-----

"So, I have to know, why do you call them Friday night fajitas?" Kurt asked, helping himself to another pile of chicken and peppers and wrapping them in a soft tortilla.

"Because by the time we get to Friday, if we've been eating junk all week, we try to make something real," Sam explained. "One time we made fajitas, and they were awesome. And the name stuck."

"Well, I approve of this Friday night ritual. They are awesome," Kurt agreed, his mouth full. Blaine wondered if Kurt was comparing this evening to his family’s Friday night dinners with his dad in Lima. He and Sam had continued the tradition with Burt and Carole for most of their senior year, but Blaine hadn’t been back to the Hudmel house much since Finn’s death. He couldn’t help but hope that he’d get another chance to sit at that kitchen table with Kurt, although it would never be the same.

Sam smiled at Kurt’s compliment. "Thanks, man." His mood had improved considerably since his nap, and he had brightened even further when Kurt brought out the ingredients for the sangria, happily helping him slice up the lemons and oranges and listening to Kurt's description of the various sangria variations he wanted to try, including a white peach recipe that sounded more like a dessert than a drink. Although the sangria was liberally diluted with seltzer, they were all a little bit buzzed by the time they polished off the last of the fajitas. 

As Kurt was trying to get the pie he bought out of its box without wrecking it, Blaine tried to focus on finding some clean forks, but kept getting distracted by the way Kurt was licking his fingers every time he got a little bit of the pie topping on them. Blaine was beginning to think it would be easier to forget about getting the darn thing out of the box and just dig in when Sam got up from the table. "Save me a piece? I'm going for a walk."

"Sam?" Jolted out of his Kurt and dessert related thoughts, Blaine shot Sam a quizzical look.

"No, it's okay. I'll sleep better if I get some exercise. And since I'm dragging you away next week, the least I can do is give you guys some space now." Sam grinned and slipped on his sneakers. "See you later."

Kurt stopped fiddling with the bakery box and came up behind Blaine, resting his chin on his shoulder and wrapping his arms around his waist. "Everything okay with Sam?" 

Blaine sighed and tilted his head back against Kurt's. "Getting there? We talked some stuff out today, but I think he's still a little out of sorts." Blaine explained Sam's frustration with his nightmares and their plan to find him a therapist in New York. 

"You're a good friend, Blaine."

If I were a better friend I wouldn't have let it get this bad, Blaine thought to himself. He shook his head and stood up, unwilling to let his worries ruin their evening. "Maybe we can save the pie for later, and go cuddle on the couch?"

Kurt smiled and came in close to Blaine, eyes dark and teasing. "Works for me."

Later, after an extremely enjoyable make-out session that made Blaine feel like he was in high school again - junior year, that is - Kurt brought over slices of the key lime pie and cups of tea. "Did Sam say something about dragging you away?"

Of course Kurt waited to ask this question until Blaine had a mouth full of pie. He chewed, and swallowed, and wiped his mouth with a napkin. "We're going to his parents' in Kentucky for the Fourth of July weekend. He was worried that I wasn't going to go anymore, but I told him I was."

The look of concern on Kurt's face showed that he understood exactly what Sam was worried about. "I'm sorry. I've been taking up too much of your time...."

"No, no, that's not true." Blaine's stomach flipped and he reached out and grabbed Kurt's arm. "You don't have anything to be sorry about, and Sam would kick the shit out of me for telling you this if it made you think so."

"So why'd you tell me?" Kurt said softly.

"I want to be able to tell you everything, Kurt. I don't want to censor my thoughts with you." Blaine paused, taking Kurt's hand. "Did you mean it when you said as far as you were concerned, there was nothing I had to hide? Because I got the feeling that you did."

Kurt nodded solemnly. "Yeah, I did." He leaned forward and gave Blaine a gentle kiss, quite a contrast from their heated make-out session just a few minutes before. "You don't have any actual skeletons in your closet though, right? Because you know how I feel about horror movies." Kurt gave an exaggerated shudder.

Blaine chuckled. "No, no actual skeletons. But there is something I want to talk about. It doesn't have to be tonight, I don't want to spring it on you or anything."

"Now I’m nervous again, and I don't think you're talking about the Kurt Through The Years photo album." 

"Don't be nervous." Blaine scooted close to Kurt and took his hand, looking into his wary blue eyes. “I am ridiculously happy that you are back in my life. I really think we can be us again, Kurt.” He looked at Kurt for confirmation.

“I think so too,” Kurt whispered, swallowing hard. “But, there’s a ‘but’ coming, isn’t there?”

“Sort of? Not anything terrible. I just think we need to talk about our break-up." Blaine was afraid that Kurt would react as skittishly as he had the last time the subject arose, and if Kurt's anxious look was any indication, he wasn't wrong. But he and Kurt seemed to look back on what happened differently, and he really wanted to figure it out before it became more of a problem. 

Kurt pulled his knees up, practically curled into a ball next to Blaine, but didn’t let go of Blaine’s hand. Instead he pulled it on top of his knees, staring at it as if the answer to the world’s problems was hidden in the space between Blaine’s thumb and forefinger. "I know we do. But I kind of wish we didn't."

"How come?"

Kurt squeezed his eyes shut and let go of Blaine’s hand to wrap his arms around his knees. "I don't even understand why you're speaking to me anymore."

"Kurt, what are you talking about?" 

"It's like you've magically forgotten what happened between us. And I'm scared that when you remember, you'll change your mind about wanting to be with me again." Kurt's voice was rising, his face tightening up as it always did when he was trying not to cry.

"Why would I do that?" Blaine asked gently. "I really don't think I've forgotten anything, Kurt. It was a mutual decision to break off the engagement. You seem to think it was your fault -"

"It was my fault, Blaine, don't you understand? You were depressed, you were in pain, you were zoned out on medication, your whole life was wrecked, and I abandoned you." Kurt was shaking now, crying, palms pressed against his face. 

Blaine wrapped his arms around Kurt, knees and all. This was the heart of the problem, the reason that guilty look flickered across Kurt’s face every time the conversation touched on their break up. "Listen to me, Kurt, you didn't abandon me. _You didn't._ You can't keep thinking that. I was in bad shape, but I wasn't incapacitated. You didn't put one over on me, or take advantage, or whatever you're thinking. I was perfectly capable of making my own decisions, and I agreed that it was better for us to break up. Neither of us could give the other what we needed. You didn't do anything to me."

"I should have been there for you. I should have," Kurt choked out.

"You were, as much as you could be.” Blaine felt his throat closing up, but he had to make Kurt understand. “I really do get it, you know. I wish I had done a better job of being there for you, too. You needed me too, and I wasn't there for you. We did what we could at the time. You have to forgive yourself, Kurt, so we can move on. Because I know we can. We can move on together, and we can be happy together. I don’t know how many more chances we’re going to get at this, and I don’t want us to let this one go. Please, baby, forgive yourself."

Kurt took a few deep breaths and pulled back, wiping his face on his sleeve. Blaine loosened his tight grasp, letting his hands move to Kurt's arms, catching his gaze. Kurt looked intently at Blaine, his eyes red. "Even if I did… do you forgive me?"

Blaine lifted a hand to Kurt's cheek and wiped away a leftover tear with his thumb. "I don't think there is anything to forgive. But to the extent that there is something to forgive, if you think there is something more, something different you could have done, yes, I forgive you."

Kurt just stared at Blaine for a minute, eyes wide and vulnerable, and then climbed completely into Blaine's lap, pressing every part of his body into Blaine's. "Can you just hold me here for a while?" Kurt said quietly. "I feel like I'm going to fly away."

"I'm never letting you go again, my little blackbird." Blaine closed his eyes and rested his head on Kurt's, breathing him in. No matter what had happened before, he was going to give Kurt what he needed now. And he had faith that Kurt was going to do the same for him. He was terrified, and he was thrilled, and he was Kurt's, and that was all there was to it.


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> AU after 5x02. When the New Directions’ bus crashes before Nationals, Finn is killed and Blaine is badly injured. Grieving and damaged, Kurt and Blaine call off their engagement. Two years after the tragedy, they run into each other in New York City. Klaine; Blam friendship.
> 
> Warnings for past character death (Finn), discussion of depression, injuries.

It was Saturday morning and Kurt was pacing his apartment, wondering how early was too early to call Blaine. Despite Blaine’s penchant for early rising, he was pretty sure that 7:15 a.m. on a weekend was a stretch even for him. But he felt like he was going to burst with energy, and he needed to talk to someone. He picked up his phone, knowing there was one person he could always call.

“Kurt? Everything okay?” Burt sounded more amused than concerned, which suited Kurt fine.

“Yeah, Dad. Are you at the shop?”

“Not yet, buddy. Marco’s opening.”

“I didn’t wake you, did I?”

“Nope, been up for a while, just drinking coffee.” Kurt swore he could hear his dad sink into the squeaky chair at the end of their kitchen table. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“He’s not mad at me,” were the words that fell out. Not exactly his most articulate, but it was the primary reason Kurt’s insides were dancing around this morning.

“You talking about Blaine?”

“Of course, Dad. He’s not mad, about the break up. He doesn’t hate me.” Kurt twirled around as he waltzed around his tiny kitchen, his socks sliding on the wood floor.

“I would hope he didn’t hate you, Kurt – you did tell me you two were dating again. Why would he want to date you if he hated you?”

“Dad! You’re being obtuse.”

“Am I? Maybe you are.”

“Dad!” Kurt exclaimed again as he slid into his room and flopped down on his bed. “I know what you’re saying, but believe me, he would have good reason to be mad. At least, I really thought he did. But he’s not. And Dad…” Kurt took a deep breath. “I’m so happy. I think I forgot what it was like to feel this happy.” Kurt swung his feet back and forth off the end of the bed, and threw in a few high kicks for good measure.

“Kurt, that’s wonderful. Blaine’s a good kid.”

Kurt forgot, sometimes, that Burt and Blaine had had a relationship even when Kurt wasn’t around. Not just during Blaine’s senior year, but after the accident, when he was in the hospital, and then rehab. Burt had stayed in touch with Blaine after the break up, too, although he had informed Kurt in no uncertain terms that he would not be spying on Blaine for Kurt. He realized that Burt might know quite a good deal about what Blaine had been up to over the past few years.

“Dad? When was the last time you saw Blaine?” Kurt asked hesitantly.

“Must have been at the party his folks gave him and Sam, before they went off to college. About a year ago, now.”

“Did you know he was coming to New York City?”

“I did.” Kurt heard his dad pouring more coffee. “Are you going to ask me why I didn’t tell you?”

Kurt surprised himself with his answer. “Nope.” Whatever was going on with him and Blaine now, it was working. And he wasn’t sure it would have, a year ago. A year ago, Kurt was still too wrapped up in grief over Finn, too heartsick, too busy trying to focus on his career in lieu of letting anyone get close. He had a hunch that Blaine wouldn’t have been ready, either. But in any case, it was water under the bridge. And right now he had clear, blue, sparkling water in front of him.

“Good man.” Burt cleared his throat. “You going to make it work this time? Because I’m not sure how many more chances fate’s gonna give you.”

“Blaine said sort of the same thing.” Kurt laughed. “No pressure, or anything.”

“Well, maybe a little pressure,” Burt said dryly. “Kurt, I’ve got to head out. But you tell Blaine that I’m real pleased that the two of you are together, and I’m looking forward to seeing him again sometime soon. Okay?”

“Okay.”

\-----

**From Kurt: Text me when you’re done with PT? I want to take you to lunch.**

**From Blaine: I’m sorry, I can’t. Doctor’s appointment.**

**From Kurt: Everything okay?**

**From Blaine: Just a check-up, routine stuff.**

**From Kurt: I’ll go with you, and we’ll get lunch by the medical center. I know a great Japanese place over there.**

**From Blaine: You want to go to my doctor’s appointment?**

**From Kurt: Yes? I won’t go into the exam room with you or anything, I’ll just keep you company while you wait. Doctor’s offices are boring.**

**From Kurt: Unless Sam’s going with you?**

**From Blaine: No, Sam’s not going.**

Kurt hesitated. What was Blaine worried about? Had he gone too far? 

**From Kurt: Look, I checked the guidebook for the rule governing how long you had to be reconciled with your ex-fiancé before you could go to a doctor’s appointment with him, and it says three weeks. So we’re good, because it’s been almost four weeks since I ran into you at the hospital spreading joy to the tiny humans.**

**From Blaine: Technically our first date wasn’t even two weeks ago.**

**From Kurt: Technically our first date was over three years ago, smarty-pants.**

**From Blaine: Fine, you win. You may have the pleasure of escorting me to my doctor’s appointment.**

**From Kurt: Hooray!**

**From Blaine: I don’t know whether to be pleased that you’re this excited about going to the doctor with me, or scared.**

**From Kurt: (1) I just want to see you as soon as possible, because (2)**

Kurt froze, realizing that he almost typed “I love you” into his phone. There was a time and a place for that, and over text message was definitely not the time or the place. He quickly revised his message.

**From Kurt: I just want to see your gorgeous face as soon as possible.**

**From Blaine: I make no promises about the nature of my face, but I’ll be done with PT at 11. See you then?**

**From Kurt: Yes!!!!!**

**From Blaine: I like silly Kurt. I can’t wait to see you either.**

\----  
Kurt met Blaine at the corner outside his physical therapist’s office and presented him with a bright pink gerbera daisy. 

“Kurt! Thank you. What’s this for?” Blaine tilted his head up as Kurt leaned in for a quick kiss. 

“Just because,” he said. Kurt tucked the flower into the pocket of Blaine’s gym bag and crooked his left arm for Blaine to take, grinning widely the whole time. 

“Did someone sneak an extra shot of espresso into your latte this morning?” Blaine asked as he gazed at Kurt, his warm brown eyes shining in the sunlight. “Because you are in an unusually peppy mood.”

“No serious talks while we’re walking, Blaine. You can interrogate me all you want later. I’m just happy, that’s all.” Kurt could tell he was entering babbling mode and he didn’t care one bit. “It’s a beautiful day, I’ve got a hot guy on my arm, and I’m going to enjoy it.”

As they paused to let a group of runners go by, Blaine rested his head on Kurt’s shoulder. “Me too.”

\-------

Kurt sat in the waiting room, idly playing on his phone. Even the drab décor of the doctor’s office wasn’t dampening his mood today. He had made Blaine pose with the pink daisy while they were waiting for his turn with the doctor. Kurt sent the picture to his dad with the message “See? Not mad.”

“Are you Kurt?” a nurse asked, sticking her head into the waiting room, and Kurt nodded. “Blaine asked if you could come on back, and bring his walking stick.” She led Kurt to one of the exam rooms and gave him a warm smile. “You must be so proud of your boyfriend, he’s doing so well.”

Kurt paused outside the room, considering, and then knocked on the door. 

“Come in,” Blaine said. Blaine was facing away from him, reaching for his shirt, and Kurt was struck by the sight. All that beautiful skin. Blaine’s shoulders seemed even broader than Kurt remembered, his waist tinier in comparison. That birthmark on his back that he hadn’t seen in years. He wanted to swoop in and kiss it.

Blaine turned towards him and Kurt inhaled sharply. “Blaine, what’s that?”

Over Blaine’s ribs on his right side were several angry red lines, about five inches long, surrounded by a purpling bruise.

“Oh,” Blaine’s face colored. “It’s nothing. I, um, I just tripped. They’re just scratches, they’ll heal soon.”

“Are you kidding me? Where did you trip, a jungle?” Kurt was up close to Blaine now, his hand waving vaguely towards the cuts on his skin.

“Kurt, it’s fine.” Blaine’s voice was tight. “I just tripped in the subway, I fell on the edge of a bench. It was sharp.”

“I can’t believe you didn’t say something about this. Wasn’t it hurting you last night? I probably dug my bony knees right into you during your mission to hug me to death.”

“Kurt, it’s really not a big deal.”

“Is this why you had this appointment today?”

“No, this happened a few days ago. I told you, this was a regular appointment about all my other stuff.” 

_All my other stuff._ Actual, serious stuff. Get a grip, Kurt told himself, you’re freaking out over cuts and bruises when Blaine can’t even walk without hurting. Kurt took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, centering himself. When he looked up, Blaine was just standing there in front of him, looking confused. Kurt slowly took Blaine’s shirt out of his hand and straightened it out. He held it up and glanced at Blaine, waiting to see if he would protest, but Blaine didn’t move. Kurt pulled one sleeve over Blaine’s arm, then the other, and brought the shirt up over his shoulders. He could feel Blaine’s breath on his neck, could smell his citrus-spicy cologne, as he stood stock still and let Kurt dress him. Kurt did the buttons one by one, leaving the top few open. No bowtie today. He passed his fingers softly over Blaine’s exposed collarbone, drawing a shudder from him. 

Kurt smoothed the shirt down over Blaine’s chest, and looked up to meet his eyes. “I’m sorry. I overreacted. I think I was feeling a little… protective.”

Blaine nodded. “It’s okay.”

Kurt ran his hand down Blaine’s shirt to the hem, and rubbed the edge between his fingers. “I think you had better tuck this in yourself.” They turned away from each other as Blaine shoved his shirttails into his tight pants – a summery light red pair that fit like a glove, Kurt had noted. He risked a glance over his shoulder as Blaine zipped up, blushing a little as Blaine caught him admiring the rear view.

When Blaine was done, Kurt turned and took him in his arms, not giving him a chance to object. He just held Blaine against him, relieved when Blaine’s arms came up to wrap around him in turn. Kurt felt as if his balance was returning as they stood pressed together, and the happy feeling from just a few minutes ago seeped back into his skin, spreading warmth throughout his body. He could tell from the way Blaine’s forehead had smoothed out that he was okay now, too. But he wanted Blaine to be more than okay.

Kurt slid a hand down to Blaine’s waist, pressing his shirt in where it hadn’t been tucked in all the way, and ran his fingers along Blaine’s belt, noting the cute little green whales on the blue background. “Who would have thought I’d have such a preppy boyfriend,” Kurt mused. He watched with pleasure as Blaine gave him a look, waiting for Kurt to correct himself.

“I heard the nurse say that, but she must have just assumed,” Blaine said lightly.

“What, you don’t want to be my boyfriend?”

Blaine began to backtrack, but Kurt stopped him with a finger to his lips. Kurt could see the moment that Blaine’s anxiety turned to expectation, and it made him fairly vibrate with glee.

“Please, Blaine, say we can be boyfriends again,” Kurt pleaded, trying to keep a straight face and failing miserably, the memory of their once upon a time picnic on the McKinley courtyard steps echoing in his ears and fueling his smile.

Blaine beamed, grabbing Kurt’s face with both hands and planting a firm kiss on his lips. 

“Is that a yes?”

“Yes, of course, yes,” Blaine grinned. “And you’ll note I didn’t beat around the bush by arguing about celebrity couples.”

“I’m sorry there’s no brass band,” Kurt teased back.

“Well, those are hard to come by once you’re out of high school.” Blaine took a deep breath, and then dove in to kiss Kurt again. Kurt leaned back against the exam table and tugged Blaine tight against him, barely restraining himself from pulling Blaine’s shirt back up out of his tight pants. 

“Everything okay in there?” A voice came from the hallway and they froze, Blaine clearing his throat helplessly before answering.

“Yes, thanks, we’ll be right out.” Blaine was blushing furiously, but smiling like a goon.

“Making out in your doctor’s office, what do you think you’re doing, Blaine Anderson,” Kurt joked, running his hands down Blaine’s arms, and then looking around the room to gather up Blaine’s belongings. He swung Blaine’s gym bag over his shoulder and handed Blaine the cane – the reason for Kurt ending up in this little room in the first place.

“Hungry?” He didn’t mean to tease, but the look on Blaine’s face said he had anyway.

“I thought you wanted Japanese food?” Blaine gave it right back, looking demurely at Kurt through his eyelashes.

Kurt laughed. “I do, actually, the sushi at this place is fantastic.” He opened the door for Blaine and offered his arm as they walked down the hall. “But if you had something else in mind, I could be convinced to save it for dinner…”

\----

They decided to go to the restaurant – it really was right nearby, and they were starving. Once they had settled down at a little table by the window and ordered a ridiculous amount of sushi, Kurt pulled out his phone and scrolled to his calendar. “So when are you guys going to Kentucky? I’m going to have to make some plans myself.”

“We’re leaving Thursday morning, coming back Sunday.” Blaine picked up his chopsticks, rubbing them together to make sure there weren’t any little splinters. “What kind of plans did you have in mind?”

“I thought maybe I’d go see my dad.”

“New Jersey in July – the perfect vacation spot,” Blaine joked.

“Actually he’s back home. Which is good in a lot of ways. Although worse for last minute travel plans.” Kurt showed Blaine his screen with the train schedule. “There’s never a train when I want one. I’ll either have to miss my Thursday class, or get there in the middle of the night.”

“I’m glad, Kurt. That Burt’s back in Lima, I mean. How are things going with him and Carole?”

“It’s kind of hard for me to tell.” Kurt put his phone down and looked up at Blaine, who stuck his hand out for Kurt to take. “It’s weird, we talk about so many things, but he’s pretty quiet about this one.”

“I guess it’s kind of private, when your relationship is in trouble.” Blaine’s face was drawn.

“Yeah, I’ve been there.”

“Me too,” Blaine nodded, then gave Kurt’s hand a squeeze and smiled softly. “But not any more, right?”

“Nope, not any more.” Kurt smiled back. “I talked to my dad this morning, by the way.”

“Any words of advice this time?” Blaine loved to repeat Burt’s little speeches, especially when he could tease Kurt about them. 

“He basically told me not to fuck this up,” Kurt said, grinning. “Not in exactly those words, but it was the gist of it.”

“I love your dad,” Blaine said, genuinely. “He’s my favorite, you know.”

“Your favorite what? How many dads of your boyfriends have you had?”

“My favorite adult that isn’t my parents, how about that.” Blaine’s tone was light, but Kurt could tell he meant what he was saying.

“He’s pretty fond of you too, you know. In fact he told me to tell you that he’s ‘real pleased’ that we’re together and he’s looking forward to seeing you.”

“Really?”

“Really.” Kurt bit his lip. “I may have come across as being in a particularly good mood this morning.”

“Oh? Get a good night’s sleep?” Blaine was fishing now, but Kurt wasn’t going to make him guess.

“Actually, not really. I was up for a long time, thinking about how lucky I am.”

“Do tell.” Blaine’s eyes were wide as he gazed into Kurt’s, waiting.

Kurt ran his thumb along Blaine’s wrist, feeling that rush of warmth again. It had been swirling within him all day, and he had to share it. “I’m just so happy,” he said softly. “I know you think I didn’t have any reason to feel guilty, but I did, feel that way, I mean. It’s like there’s been this layer of guilt under my skin for two years, and now it’s just gone. It’s actually like a weight has been lifted off of me,” Kurt didn’t care that it was a cliché. “And now that it’s gone, I can just enjoy this.” Kurt waved between them, smiling so hard he could feel it in his ears. “You. Us.”

Blaine was beaming at him with that whole face smile he got, his eyes all crinkled up. “Kurt,” he breathed out, uncharacteristically speechless. He seemed to give up on finding something to say and just brought Kurt’s hand to his mouth, dropping little kisses on his knuckles as Kurt giggled, keeping it up until the waitress came with their food.

After they had spent a few minutes digging into their sushi, Kurt pulled his phone back out again. “So, what I was trying to do before is figure out when we can get together between now and when you go away. There’s a student concert at NYADA on Wednesday night if you’re interested, I’m supposed to go to some of them for my class.”

“I’d like to come with you, but I’m busy Wednesday.” Blaine paused, looking uncomfortable. “I’m going to see Kitty.”

Kurt wished he could tell whether Blaine wanted to say more on the topic or would rather he leave it alone. He used to be able to tell, just from looking at him, but he supposed not everything was stored in their underused synapses. 

“Isn’t Kitty in Lima?”

“No. She actually lived in Westchester before she moved to Ohio. After the accident, her parents moved back here. They thought she could get better medical care in New York. They have a really nice place near Chappaqua, where the Clintons live? About forty-five minutes by train from here, give or take. Sam and I try to go out there every few weeks to visit.”

“How is Kitty?” Kurt asked softly.

“You know she had head trauma from the accident?” Blaine asked. Kurt nodded. Blaine was worrying his napkin between his hands. Kurt thought that if it wasn’t cloth, he would have ripped it to bits already. “Traumatic brain injury, they call it. She’s come a long way, but it’s been hard. She’s got some cognitive problems, trouble with focusing, attention, memory. It’s like she’s the same Kitty inside, but her brain just doesn’t cooperate. And I don’t think it helped, taking her away from all her friends…” 

“She has you and Sam.”

“It’s not the same. And I know her parents meant well, and they probably did get better treatment for her here. It’s just so hard, seeing her, and no matter how friendly Sam and I are to her, we just can’t be enough.”

“Wasn’t she dating Artie?” Kurt asked.

“That didn’t last, after the accident.” Blaine paused and gave Kurt a look. “Artie didn’t look you up when he came to New York? He started on time, he’s been here for two years now.”

“I don’t know. I haven’t seen him.” Kurt felt the echo of guilt lurch towards him, and pushed it away. He was done with that. He reached over and pried Blaine’s hand off of his well wrung napkin, taking it in his. “You care so much for people, Blaine. You’re so strong.”

“I don’t feel strong,” he mumbled, still looking down.

“You are. I bet you know where each of the New Directions is right now. I bet you know how they’re doing, whether they’re in college, whether they’re dating…”

Blaine shrugged. “Not everyone.”

“It takes strength to worry about other people, when you’ve got problems of your own.”

Blaine looked up at Kurt then, biting his lip. “I worried about you, you know.” Kurt hadn’t expected that, and didn’t know what to say. “I wanted so much to talk to you, to make sure you were okay. Maybe not at first –“

Kurt huffed out a short laugh. “Hey, I thought you said it wasn’t my fault.”

“It wasn’t. That’s not what I’m trying to say.” Blaine took a deep breath. “I was worried about you, and I wanted to see you, but at the same time I didn’t. I think I sort of convinced myself that the city you were in and the city I was in were two entirely different places. And then I got here, and for the first few weeks I kept expecting to see you around every corner.”

“But you didn’t.”

“No, I didn’t.”

“You could have called me.”

Blaine nodded, agreeing. “And you could have called me.”

“Did we screw up?” Kurt asked, searching Blaine’s face. He had that forehead scrunching thing going on, as he chose his words carefully.

“I don’t think so. I think everything happened the way it was supposed to. Including this, right now.” Blaine held out his hand for Kurt’s, carefully avoiding their dishes.

Kurt took his hand and answered slowly, trying not to let his disbelief color his tone. “Don’t tell me you still believe in that whole soulmate thing?” 

“And if I do?” Blaine’s eyes were wide, his expression open and earnest.

“Well, you’d think if we were soulmates the past few years would have been easier.”

“I don’t think it’s a guarantee of having things be easy. It just means you’re the one for me, and I’m the one for you.” Kurt couldn’t believe how Blaine could say things like that, as if it cost him nothing to admit it, to open himself up so completely. But he hoped he’d never stop.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter will be from Sam's point of view.  
> Please, comment and let me know what you think!


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> AU after 5x02. When the New Directions’ bus crashes before Nationals, Finn is killed and Blaine is badly injured. Grieving and damaged, Kurt and Blaine call off their engagement. Two years after the tragedy, they run into each other in New York City. Klaine; Blam friendship.
> 
> Warnings for past character death (Finn), discussion of depression, injuries.

Sam jumped up out of the water, reaching to catch the football his dad threw at him over Stevie’s head. They had been at the lake since early this morning, lazing around on the beach and swimming in the warm water, and he couldn’t remember the last time he had felt so relaxed. He looked over towards where Stacie and her friends were climbing all over Blaine, eagerly taking him up on his offer to toss them over his shoulder into the water again and again. Blaine looked happy too. It was easier on his leg, he thought, floating around all day, and no one looked at him like the weird guy with the cane. He knew Blaine was still self-conscious about his leg, despite the fact that he shouldn’t be. At least today was a change from all of that.

Stacie gave a particularly ear-blasting shriek and Sam decided it was time to save Blaine from the hoard of pre-teen girls that was gathered around him. He splashed over to his dad and gave him the football. “I think Blaine and I are going to take a break.” Sam swam over to Blaine and dragged Stacie off his shoulders. “Go torture Dad, we need some bro time.”

“Bro time?” Blaine swirled his arm back and forth in the water, getting ready to splash Sam.

Sam tackled Blaine, pinning his arms to his body and spinning him around as he lost his balance. “No more splashing. You’re as bad as Stacie.” Blaine grinned and shook his head, his wet curls spraying Sam in the face. “Dude, didn’t those kids tire you out yet?”

“Yeah, but it was fun.” Blaine smiled sunnily, tilting his head up at Sam. Sam realized he was still pinning his arms. Before he let go, he checked one more time. 

“You’re not going to splash me, right?” Sam really didn’t like getting water in his eyes, and Blaine splashed hard. Blaine shook his head, more calmly now. “Want to swim out to the raft?”

They set out for the raft which was anchored about fifty yards away, Sam admiring Blaine’s measured strokes. Sam tried out his butterfly for a little bit, but he was out of practice, and he doubted it looked as good as he would have liked. He had just pulled himself up on the sun warmed wood when he noticed Blaine floundering around a dozen feet away. 

Sam dove in and was next to Blaine in seconds, treading water. “Blaine? You okay?”

“Cramp,” Blaine choked out. He was clutching at his leg and kept slipping under the water.

“Come here,” Sam said, trying to get him in a lifeguard hold. Blaine flailed and nearly elbowed Sam in the face, but Sam persisted. “Let me help, you’ll drown us both.”

“Shit, it hurts,” Blaine spat out, curling almost into a ball as Sam finally got his arm around him and started kicking, Blaine’s back against his chest. It didn’t take long for Sam to get them to the raft. He turned Blaine so that he could grab on to the ladder, and waited with him as he panted and coughed, a hand resting on his back. 

After Blaine caught his breath, Sam pulled himself up onto the platform and reached down for Blaine, giving him a hand as he hopped up the ladder. Blaine pushed himself to his feet and Sam quickly stood with him as he wobbled, letting Blaine hang on to his shoulders for support as he flexed his ankle, pressing the ball of his foot hard against the deck. Finally the cramp seemed to subside, and Blaine sank back down, laying down on his back with a groan.

“Want me to rub it?” Sam ignored Blaine’s side eye and took Blaine’s foot on to his lap, slowly massaging his calf. Blaine grimaced at first, then took a slow breath and let it out, relaxing, his eyes closed.

“Feels good, Sam. Thanks.” After a few minutes Sam gently let go of Blaine’s leg and lay down next to him. 

“You okay?” Sam asked quietly.

“Yeah. I wasn’t going to drown, though.”

“I know.”

“But thanks for saving me.” Blaine turned his head and opened an eye, squinting at Sam.

“Anytime, bro.” Sam smiled and pushed a dripping curl out of Blaine’s eyes. The sun was strong, even though it was past dinner time, and it frankly felt awesome just to lie still as the water gently rocked them. Blaine closed his eyes and seemed content to doze, like a cat in a sunny window.

It did something to Sam, seeing how far Blaine had come. It had been a shock when he went back to Lima, excited about hanging out with Blaine again. Sam had worn a silly “Happy 2014” hat when he went to visit Blaine at the rehab place, thinking that it would make Blaine laugh the way he always did at Sam’s goofiness, and then they would talk about everything and nothing, and maybe watch a movie on his laptop. But Blaine barely said two words to him, couldn’t care less about the hat, and acted as if he didn’t give a shit whether Sam was there or not. Sam learned a little bit about depression over the next few weeks – he even read articles on the internet about how to help a friend deal with emotional trauma, and talked to his own therapist. He wasn’t sure if Blaine had situational depression or something more ongoing, but in the end, he just went with his gut. He didn’t take it personally when Blaine was irritable or downright rude, and he just kept showing up. It got easier when Blaine was released from rehab and could go home. He thought it made Blaine more relaxed, although he wouldn’t admit it. Sam got into the habit of going over to Blaine’s house every day or two after work or class. He’d talk with Blaine’s mom for a few minutes, and then head up to Blaine’s room. Sometimes Blaine didn’t want to do anything, so Sam would just chill out at his desk, surfing the web and playing games, letting Blaine be. Other days they’d watch a movie together, or just lie around on Blaine’s bed reading comic books (Sam made sure to bring over new ones every once in a while). One day Sam was running late, helping Burt out at the shop, when he got a text from Blaine asking where he was. He was so surprised to hear from him, he nearly dropped his phone. 

Sam brought Marley with him one afternoon, having hinted about it a few days before. Blaine hadn’t exactly said that he wanted to see her, but he didn’t say no, either, so Sam thought he’d risk it. His plan worked, and Blaine smiled when he saw Marley, ducking her head as she approached him, as if afraid he was going to bite her. She had brought along some sheet music of songs she was working on, and Sam watched from his spot at Blaine’s desk while they talked, Marley demonstrating on Blaine’s guitar how she had been teaching herself to play. There was one song she played that day that found itself a permanent part of Blaine’s repertoire after that – _Today Has Been OK,_ by Emiliana Torrini. It was sad, but sort of healing and hopeful, and Sam liked it.

After that day he and Blaine started to jam together once in a while, on two guitars, or Blaine on the piano, although that involved getting him downstairs, which could set off a bad mood. But it felt good to sing again with Blaine, and Sam thought Blaine liked it too. It wasn’t all sunshine and lollipops, though. When _Captain America: The Winter Soldier_ came out, Sam was dying to go, but Blaine didn’t want to. He didn’t like leaving the house in his wheelchair. Sam pulled out all the stops, trying every argument he could think of, but Blaine refused. Then the next day Sam got a text from Blaine, who was outside in the car with his mom. “I hear there’s a good movie playing tonight. And someone’s going to buy you all the popcorn you can eat. Any chance you’d like to see it?”

Then it was springtime, and as the weather got warmer, everything seemed to get easier. They realized they were both really going to be able to get out of Lima in the fall, and they started to plan for New York together. Blaine was coming out of his shell, his desire to reconnect with his friends battling his self-consciousness and winning more often than not. Sam came over one day to find Blaine playing video games with Trent, who was apparently home from college on spring break. They talked about courses, and exams, and dorm food, and it started to seem like it was really going to happen. Before he knew it Blaine’s aunt was telling them about the apartment they could share rent-free, and Sam’s parents were on board, taking him and Blaine to New York for a long weekend to get the lay of the land. Blaine clearly still hated being trapped in the wheelchair, but he had gotten used to accepting help from Sam, and Sam didn’t mind giving it. 

New York was better and worse than Sam had expected. The whole place was loud, and crowded, and occasionally scary, even for Sam, who thought he had moved on from the trauma of the accident. Between classes, his job, and Blaine’s still constant physical therapy appointments, they were exhausted. But being together sustained them, through Sam’s nightmares and Blaine’s pain and insecurities. Sitting on the couch at the end of the day, or curled into bed for an afternoon nap, they could trust each other with it all, and it kept them going.

Sam opened his eyes as a kid grabbed on to the raft, took one look at Sam and Blaine – older, clearly with dibs on the spot – and let go, swimming away without a word. He glanced over at Blaine, who was undisturbed by their visitor, clearly asleep. His hair was drying, his curls springing back into shape. Blaine’s long lashes brushed his cheeks, which were tinged with pink from their day in the sun. Not for the first time Sam felt overwhelmed by his feelings for his friend. 

He knew it wasn’t sexual attraction. It wasn’t fair, he thought, that you needed a romantic connection with someone to be a couple, to be a family. If Blaine was really his brother, he wouldn’t have to worry about Blaine leaving him – they’d always have that tie. If Sam were gay, they could be boyfriends, fiancés, get married, and be a family that way. Have little blond or curly-haired kids of their own. Instead they were just friends, keeping each other company until something better came along. Sam mentally kicked himself for such an uncharitable thought; he knew they were more than that. But exactly what, it was hard to pin down.

There had been a few times that Sam had thought about trying for something more with Blaine. He didn’t understand why the shape of a person’s body affected whether he was sexually compatible with them or not. One night last winter, during a snowstorm that shut down the city, he and Blaine had made a nest of blankets on the floor in front of their fireplace. Blaine fell asleep with his head on his abandoned homework, lying on his stomach in front of the fire, the golden light flickering over his skin. Sam lay there for a while just looking at him, and when Blaine stirred, the page of his notebook sticking to his cheek, Sam put a hand on his arm, feeling the strength of his bicep under his soft plaid shirt. Blaine had gazed at Sam and blinked slowly, smiling. “Sam,” he breathed out. “Hi.”

“Do you think I should kiss you?” Sam had asked, not bothering with any preamble.

“Has something changed about your sexuality that you’d like to tell me?” Blaine had replied, unfazed, as if he and Sam had had this conversation before. Which they sort of had, although not in so many words.

“No, I don’t think so.”

“Then why?”

“Just to check?”

And just like that, Sam had his first (and to date only) kiss with another guy. Blaine’s lips were soft and warm, and they felt nice against his. His face was just a little scratchy – Sam figured his probably was too. Blaine hummed pleasantly into the kiss, and responded by sliding a little closer when Sam moved his hand to Blaine’s cheek and then back into his hair. They kept it up for a minute or two, pressing back and forth, Sam tentatively opening his mouth a little to let Blaine’s tongue explore. Finally Sam pulled back. He smiled at Blaine, a little embarrassed.

“So? How’d I do?” Blaine smiled at him.

“You’re really good at that,” Sam said shyly. “But…”

“You’re not turned on,” Blaine said matter of factly. “It’s okay.”

“I wish I was,” Sam said sadly. “We’d be an awesome couple.”

“For the record, I wish you were too. But Sam?”

“Yeah?”

“We’re still an awesome couple.” Blaine held up his hand for Sam to high five. “Blam!”

Sam blinked as he raised his head, looking out over the sparkling lake, smiling at the memory of his kiss with Blaine. It had been a one-time thing, but the ease between them only continued to grow. Maybe Blam would last anyway, even without being a real couple. Sam was certainly going to do everything he could to keep his connection with Blaine, even if it had to be adjusted a bit to accommodate what was going on between Blaine and Kurt. He could make it work. He had to.

Sam poked Blaine. The sun was getting lower, and he was a little chilly. “Wake up.”

Blaine just mumbled and pushed back at Sam’s arm. “Wanna sleep.”

“There’s fireworks tonight, dude. Rise and shine.”

Hours later, after a picnic of brownies and strawberry shortcake in front of the town pavilion, a patriotic sing-along with the community band, a modest but entirely enjoyable fireworks display, and an argument with Stevie and Stacie over when they could be woken up the next morning, Sam and Blaine sat in Sam’s backyard, contemplating their slightly lopsided tent.

“We don’t have to sleep in it. We can camp out on the living room floor like last night.” Sam poked the side of the tent with his foot, testing its stability.

“I don’t know, it’s nice to be outside.” Blaine watched Sam shake the tent, which stayed upright. “I don’t think it’s going to fall down, Sam. It’s just a little off balance.” Blaine looked sharply at Sam as he choked back a laugh. “Don’t you dare,” he warned.

“I’m sorry, B,” Sam began. “But it’s hard to resist when you say things like that.” Sam pushed the tent flap aside and held out his hand in invitation for Blaine to crawl in. “Besides, you’re getting steadier all the time.”

Blaine smiled that little private smile that meant he was proud of himself. Sam caught his eye, and smiled back. They shuffled around, getting into their sleeping bags, and Sam put the camp lantern up behind their pillows.

“I remember that lantern. You brought it to the sleepover Kitty had after the shooting at McKinley,” Blaine mused. “You had bad nightmares then, too.” Blaine turned towards him, his face open, letting Sam know he could talk about it if he wanted to. Yesterday Sam had gone to see Betsy, his therapist, leaving Blaine back at the house to play around with Stacie and Stevie. Luckily they were both easily occupied with anything musical, and all Blaine had to do was pull out a guitar to hold their attention. By the time Sam got home, Stacie had learned some new chords, and Stevie was trying to talk his mom into getting him drum lessons. Blaine hadn’t pressed him about the session, just gave him a pat on the back and a warm smile when he returned.

Sam turned on his back, looking up at the tent. There was something he had talked about with Betsy that he needed to say to Blaine. “Do you think we’re too dependent on each other?” he asked quietly. He couldn’t see Blaine’s face, but he felt his hand brush the back of his where it lay between them.

“No, I don’t.” 

“But we’re practically joined at the hip.” 

“It’s good to be able to depend on each other. Just because we depend on each other, that doesn’t mean we’re too dependent. I think we’re doing fine, Sam, as long as we’re both happy with how things are.”

Sam just thought for a moment, trying to say this right. “What if I’d like to be less dependent?” 

Sam thought he could feel Blaine tense beside him before he responded. “In what way?” 

“Well, gee, I’d like to be able to be alone in the apartment without being afraid, and be able to put myself back to sleep after a nightmare.”

“Of course, Sam.” Blaine raised himself up on an elbow and moved into Sam’s line of sight. “I want that for you too. That’s not what I meant.” Blaine pushed on Sam’s arm until he turned a little, returning his gaze. “Did you talk to Betsy about it?”

“Yeah. She thinks it’s a good idea for me to see someone regularly in New York. She’s going to talk to the person NYU suggested and see if he seems like a good fit.” 

Sam watched as Blaine nodded. “That’s great.” Blaine’s brow twitched, and his eyes flicked away from Sam’s. “Do you think I’m too dependent on you?” he asked nervously.

“No, man, definitely not.” Sam smiled and poked Blaine’s foot gently with his toes. “I know you don’t even need me to be your personal slave anymore. You just like having me around all the time because I’m awesome and I make you laugh.”

As if to prove the point, Blaine laughed, his eyes scrunching up. “You are awesome, Sam Evans, and don’t you forget it.” Blaine lay back down next to Sam, his head tilted against Sam’s shoulder. He and Blaine lay quietly together for a few minutes, their hands bumping up against each other, close and content.

“You’re sure Kurt’s okay with this?” Sam said softly, wishing immediately that he hadn’t.

“Don’t worry about Kurt, Sam. He’s been okay with it since our very first sleepover at Kitty’s.”

Sam remembered talking to Kurt on the phone that night, more than two years ago, when Kurt encouraged him to basically snuggle Blaine to sleep if he needed it. They had all been pretty shaken from the school shooting and no one was sleeping well, Sam included.

“Just promise me something, Blaine.” Sam’s voice came out sounding funny even to himself.

“What?” Blaine sat up a little and looked at Sam, his eyes wide. “What’s wrong?”

“If you and I need to be a little less, you know, touchy, just say something.”

Blaine slid away from Sam, wrapping his arms around his chest. “Do you want me to stop?” He sounded hurt.

“No, don’t be mad, that’s not what I meant.” Shit, this wasn’t coming out right at all. He just didn’t want Kurt to be pissed at Blaine, and after all this time, he still didn’t really understand why he and Blaine could cuddle together like they did. “It’s not just you, it’s both of us, you know that. I like it too. I like to be close to you. But’s it not normal.” Sam didn’t think that’s what he meant to say, but out it came anyway. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Blaine flinch.

“People express affection for each other in different ways, Sam,” Blaine said tightly. “Plenty of girls are physical with each other, when they’re just friends. It’s comforting. You never minded before.”

“And I don’t mind now,” Sam insisted. “I’m just, I don’t know, trying to stave off the inevitable. You’ve got a real boyfriend now, I’ve got to learn to take care of myself.”

“Don’t push me away because you’re afraid I’m going to leave you, Sam.” Once again, Blaine hit the nail on the head. He could read Sam like a book, sometimes, and not just any book. One that he’d read over and over, like the first Harry Potter. “I’ve tried that, and it doesn’t turn out well.”

“Okay,” Sam said, not sure it was worth fighting about anymore.

“Sounds like even a hearty ‘Blam’ isn’t going to make you feel better right now,” Blaine said softly.

“I’m sorry, Blaine. Today was just such a good day. And you have to admit, we aren’t going to spend as much time together as we used to. Just do the math – every date you go on with Kurt, that’s time you’re not with me. And of course there’s nothing wrong with that, it’s great for you, it’s healthy, it’s horrible for me to even say this. I just have to suck it up.” And figure out how to get through the night without you, he thought. 

Blaine laced his arms around Sam and hugged him tight. “It’s not horrible. You’re going to be okay, Sam, I promise. I’m not going to leave you, metaphorically or otherwise.”

“I may be in college now but I still don’t understand what that means,” Sam muttered into Blaine’s shoulder.

“It means you can depend on me until you don’t need to as much anymore. For starters, I’m not leaving you alone at night until you’re ready, and I’m going to help you get there.” Blaine released his hold on Sam and sighed, lying back down. “Although it is awfully tiring, having to hang around with such an unattractive and boring guy all the time.”

“Take that back, or I’m going to quit being your personal trainer, and we’ll see who’s unattractive then,” Sam grumbled.

“What, are you saying the only attractive thing about me is my compact yet well defined musculature?”

“Again with the big words, Anderson.” Sam slid closer to Blaine and ducked under his arm, resting his head on Blaine’s chest and setting his hand gently on Blaine’s waist, the position Blaine sometimes pulled him into after a particularly bad nightmare. He held perfectly still for a moment, hoping Blaine wouldn’t push him away. He didn’t. He never did.

After a few minutes Sam could feel Blaine’s breathing slow down. Just when Sam thought he was asleep, Blaine’s hand found its way to Sam’s arm and gave it a gentle squeeze.

“Love you, Sammy,” Blaine whispered.

“Love you too,” Sam replied. Sam wondered if their love was worth the same as the love Blaine had for Kurt. Maybe that wasn’t the right question. Love is love.


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> AU after 5x02. When the New Directions’ bus crashes before Nationals, Finn is killed and Blaine is badly injured. Grieving and damaged, Kurt and Blaine call off their engagement. Two years after the tragedy, they run into each other in New York City. Klaine; Blam friendship.
> 
> Warnings for past character death (Finn), discussion of depression, injuries.

“I’m glad you guys had a good time on the Fourth. Sam’s family is so nice, and that lake sounds gorgeous…”

Blaine was having a hard time focusing on Kurt’s words, and it wasn’t just because of the loud music. His attention was drawn instead to Kurt’s fingers, and the way he kept licking them every time he pulled a nacho off the plate and stuck it in his mouth. They were having dinner at a busy Mexican restaurant near Kurt’s place, choosing to sit at the bar rather than wait for a table. Blaine immediately realized the advantage of this, as he and Kurt were pressed up next to each other, thighs and knees touching, Kurt’s hand constantly reaching out to brush his arm or rest on his leg. Between the proximity and the margaritas, he wasn’t sure how much longer he was going to last before needing to either take a break or kiss his boyfriend senseless.

Boyfriend. Blaine was still more than a little excited about the term. On the one hand, it had happened kind of quickly – they really had only been dating again for a few weeks. But for Blaine, there wasn’t any question about where he wanted this to go. He wanted to take it slow, but he certainly didn’t have any interest in seeing anyone else, and Kurt seemed to feel the same. He loved that Kurt had been the one to bring it up, that Kurt really did want him again, really did seem to mean it. It felt awesome, and that wasn’t just the margarita talking.

“Blaine? You okay?”

“Yes, sorry. You were saying something about this week?”

“Oh, just that I have to go to another one of those NYADA concerts this Wednesday, if you wanted to come. I know it’s just student stuff, but they’re usually pretty good.”

“Sure, that would be great.” Blaine bit his lip, figuring now was as good a time as any to raise an issue he had been wanting to tell Kurt about. The nervous feeling in his stomach at the mention of NYADA had overridden any effect from the margarita, anyway. “Actually, that’s something I wanted to talk about with you.”

“What is?”

“Remember when Carmen Tibideaux said she wanted to speak to me? We were talking about me taking another course with her through the extension school in the fall. She also asked me to perform at one of those Wednesday night concerts.”

“Blaine, that’s fantastic! You’ll be great!” 

“I’m not so sure about that,” Blaine mumbled, Kurt’s knee-jerk praise only serving to make him more nervous. 

“Hey, what’s the matter?” Kurt said softly, moving closer and trying to get Blaine to look at him. “Do you not want to do it?”

“No, I really do, it’s just…” He didn’t know how to say this without revealing how inadequate he felt. Blaine hated that he had become so anxious about performing. It had just started to seem more and more presumptuous to think he could do anything grander than sing for sick kids in the hospital or bored hipsters in coffee shops. “I’m not a professional, like you.”

“I’m hardly a professional,” Kurt demurred.

“Um, I think that being paid for something is pretty much the definition of professional, and I’m guessing you didn’t perform on Broadway for free.”

“Semantics,” Kurt replied. “But really, what’s going on? This isn’t like you, to shy away from the spotlight.”

Blaine’s throat closed up. The Blaine Kurt used to know would jump on a table and sing his heart out at a moment’s notice, hell, he’d even convince rival show choirs to join in. But he wasn’t that Blaine anymore, not since his dreams had been crushed along with his leg. He shook his head at his internal dramatics. Maybe he could blame it on the margarita. “That’s not how I am now,” he said softly. Sometimes it seemed like the last thing he wanted was for a spotlight to shine on him. He just wanted to blend in, for a change, not attract so much attention.

Kurt seemed to realize that Blaine wasn’t just joking around. “You sounded wonderful when you sang to me in the garden.”

“That’s different. That was informal, intimate. Not what NYADA students expect to see.”

“How about we go over to NYADA sometime, just us, and practice in the round room? You can get used to the space, get comfortable with how your voice will sound there. I can even pretend to be Carmen Tibideaux and give you haughty and completely impractical advice.”

Blaine giggled despite his discomfort. “You could definitely be Carmen Tibideaux. I bet you intimidate NYADA students just by looking at them.” He took a deep breath, and sat up a little straighter. “Could we really do that, go practice there? You don’t mind helping me?”

“Blaine, in what universe would I mind helping you rehearse for a performance? Isn’t that what started off our entire relationship?”

“I don’t know, look at how Candles turned out.”

“We killed that song, and you know it. Just because the judges didn’t want to give the prize to two cute boys singing a breakup song to each other, well, there’s no accounting for taste.” 

Their entrees arrived, and they busied themselves for a few minutes with their food. Blaine decided that Kurt’s enchilada was much more interesting than his burrito, and stole a few bites off of his plate when Kurt excused himself for a minute to go to the restroom. He noticed that Kurt’s glass was empty, so he gulped down what remained of his own margarita. Kurt caught his eye as he was heading back to their spot at the bar, the crowds causing him to take a meandering path across the room. Blaine couldn’t help but admire him, tall and lovely, his hair swept up off his forehead, defying gravity and the summer heat. His outfit had a bit of an elfin quality to it today, a light green button down which made his torso look long and sleek, and a glittery, delicate, leaf shaped brooch. 

Kurt came up behind Blaine and wrapped his arms around him, placing a soft kiss on his neck before sitting back down. Blaine sort of wanted to just collapse into his arms, but he didn’t think the restaurant patrons would appreciate that. He watched as Kurt picked up his glass and tilted it up to try to get at the remnants of melted ice and diluted margarita that remained, and then licked up a bit of salt from the rim.

Blaine inhaled sharply, causing Kurt to turn back to him.

“What? Something wrong?”

“Nope, nothing at all.” Blaine dragged his gaze away from Kurt’s mouth and met his gaze. “Sorry. You’re very distracting.”

Kurt blushed. “And you’re still a lightweight.” Kurt indicated his empty glass. “Want another?”

“Are you trying to take advantage of me, sir?” Blaine joked.

Kurt started to answer, then stopped himself, looking down.

“Hey, I was just kidding,” Blaine said, leaning over and placing a hand on Kurt’s thigh. “I didn’t mean to imply that you were. And I’m not drunk, either, you know. You’re distracting whether or not I’ve had anything to drink.” Blaine fluttered his eyelashes a little at Kurt, hoping it would come across as flirty and not just look like he had something stuck in his eye.

“Thanks.” Kurt looked up and took Blaine’s hand from his leg, threading their fingers together. “It’s just that I may have been having some not safe for work thoughts about you, too, and I don’t want you to get the wrong idea.”

“If the idea is let’s get tipsy and make out, I’m in favor,” Blaine grinned. 

Kurt gave a shy smile. “Really?”

“Really. Although we probably need to relocate for the second part of the plan.” Conveniently, the bartender chose that moment to ask if they wanted refills on their now completely empty glasses. “In the meantime, Kurt, there’s a little bit of salt left on my glass, if you want to finish it….”

Less than an hour later, several more margaritas finished and the bill taken care of, Kurt and Blaine emerged from the restaurant to find that it had started to rain, one of those drenching summer storms that seemed eager to pour as much water on you as possible with no warning whatsoever. Miraculously, Kurt nabbed a cab right away, causing Blaine to wonder if he had some kind of magic taxi calling powers. Kurt, the taxi whisperer. Probably not very likely.

They slid into the back seat, Kurt crashing into Blaine in his eagerness to escape the rain. “Your place or mine?” Kurt asked, trying to right himself.

Blaine glanced at his watch. It was after nine o’clock, and Sam wasn’t working tonight, so he’d probably be home by himself. “Mine okay?”

“Sure, but one of these days I’m going to convince you to come see my apartment.” Kurt leaned in close, his breath hot on Blaine’s ear. “The kitchen is tiny, but my bed is really comfortable….”

“Kurt!” Blaine laughed. “I can’t believe you just said that.”

“Okay, my sofa is really comfortable too. Although not as comfortable as yours, where did that thing even come from, oh, damn, Blaine…”

Blaine wasn’t really interested in talking about furniture when his hot, wet boyfriend was sitting right next to him, so he had started pressing little kisses to Kurt’s neck. Which were apparently appreciated.

“Blaine, we’re in a cab,” Kurt protested weakly.

Any further debate was rendered unnecessary as the taxi arrived at Blaine’s building. They gave the driver an extra tip for taking them such a short distance and got out, Kurt grabbing Blaine around the waist as he stumbled on the curb. “You okay?” Kurt asked, looking concerned.

Blaine realized Kurt was probably as worried about his reaction as anything else. “I’m fine, just caught my toe,” he explained, pushing away the expected twinge of embarrassment. “Or maybe I just wanted an excuse for you to hold me,” he said boldly, smiling up at Kurt.

Kurt laughed and wrapped both arms around Blaine, pulling him tight against his chest. “You don’t ever need an excuse for that.”

Blaine’s heart was racing and he didn’t feel the rain anymore, just Kurt’s arms, warm and strong, holding him close. Kurt’s eyes were sparkling with excitement and happiness, and Blaine just couldn’t take it anymore. He reached a hand up behind Kurt’s head and pulled him in for a kiss, which Kurt returned enthusiastically. Blaine licked over Kurt’s lips, tasting rain, and salt, and Kurt. Kurt nibbled on his lip and stroked his hand up Blaine’s back, and Blaine arched into Kurt with delight.

“God, Blaine, we really should go inside,” Kurt groaned, as Blaine moved to kiss along his jaw.

“No one cares. Everyone’s too busy trying to get out of the rain,” Blaine replied between kisses.

Kurt caught Blaine’s lips and gave him a hard kiss, sliding his hand down to cup Blaine’s ass at the same time. Blaine gasped and thrust forward, wanting to get even closer. Kurt kept up the pressure for a long moment, then slowly pulled back, looking proud of himself. He moved his hands to Blaine’s waist as they stood there catching their breath.

“Any chance you’ll let me take you inside now?” Kurt asked. “We really need to get out of these wet clothes.” Kurt’s voice was low and rough and it pulled at Blaine, who let his eyes drift down Kurt’s long legs and back up again. Kurt’s pants were so tightly plastered to his skin he might as well not have been wearing any. Almost.

“Okay.” Blaine hadn’t really planned on getting naked with Kurt tonight – he had imagined a bit more of a controlled atmosphere for that, and not quite this soon, but his brain was fuzzy with margaritas and rain and the taste of his delicious boyfriend, so he figured he’d go with the flow.

Kurt picked up Blaine’s cane from where it had fallen and led Blaine into the building, the entryway oddly quiet after the rush of the rain. He pulled Blaine into another heated kiss as they waited for the elevator, pushing Blaine’s waterlogged curls away from his face. “Don’t tell me what my hair looks like,” Kurt mumbled as he pressed into Blaine.

“Keep kissing me and your secret is safe,” Blaine laughed between kisses. Finally the elevator came and they swayed into it, groaning when it came to a halt on Blaine’s floor and they had to pull apart so that Blaine could find his keys.

They finally got the key in the lock and the door swung open. Sam was in the kitchen, and the appalled look on his face made Blaine realize that they must have moved past drowned rat straight on to hurricane victim. “Sam, hi, I know we look ridiculous.” Blaine toed off his soggy boat shoes and then broke out in giggles as Kurt fought with his oxfords, grabbing on to Blaine for support, which quickly landed them both on the floor in one big, wet bundle. Kurt, having landed directly on top of Blaine, gave up on his shoes for a moment to push the neck of Blaine’s polo aside and lick along his collarbone. Blaine immediately decided that easy access to this part of his anatomy was a solid vote for foregoing bowties in the future, although he thought he probably would have to make some exceptions.

“Um, guys, hey, can you stop for a second?” Sam’s voice sounded strained, but Blaine thought that might just be the water in his ears. Nonetheless, making out on the hallway floor wasn’t really polite, as awesome as it felt. Kurt rolled off him and sighed, clearly perturbed at the interruption.

“Look, I tried to text you, but you forgot your phone.” Sam glanced over to where Blaine’s cell phone sat on the hall table, looking almost panicked now.

“Sam? What’s wrong?” Blaine was trying to stand up but his legs wouldn’t cooperate. Kurt rose and pulled him to his feet, keeping a hand on his waist to steady him.

“Nothing bad, dude, don’t freak out. I just wanted to warn you and Kurt…” Sam trailed off, looking away from Blaine, shoulders hunched and nervous.

“Warn us about what?” Kurt asked. Suddenly his face froze as he caught sight of the person coming towards them down the hall.

“Rachel?” Blaine stammered as he followed Kurt’s gaze, a sing-song voice in his head saying _should have gone to Kurt’s place._ This conviction was further cemented as he felt Kurt’s hand drop off his back. By the time he got his balance and turned around, Kurt was gone.


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> AU after 5x02. When the New Directions’ bus crashes before Nationals, Finn is killed and Blaine is badly injured. Grieving and damaged, Kurt and Blaine call off their engagement. Two years after the tragedy, they run into each other in New York City. Klaine; Blam friendship.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for past character death (Finn), discussion of depression, injuries. Note that the situation that caused the split between Rachel and Kurt may be upsetting (no violence), but I don’t know how to describe it without giving away what happens in this chapter; feel free to contact me for more information before reading on.

One minute Blaine was having the breath kissed out of him by his ridiculously gorgeous, soaking wet boyfriend, and the next Rachel Berry was standing in his hallway babbling apologies, and Kurt was gone. Shit. Blaine slipped on the wet floor as he scrambled to get his shoes back on and follow Kurt, but Sam stopped him with a look and a hand to his shoulder.

“I’ll go. You stay here.” And then Sam was gone too, leaving a dripping, wobbly, still fairly tipsy Blaine alone with Rachel.

“Blaine, I’m so sorry,” Rachel crooned, her voice high. “This is not what I planned for tonight at all.”

_You can say that again,_ Blaine thought, feeling slightly ill. He hopped over to the kitchen table, having lost track of his cane, and no longer very concerned with how awkward he looked.

“Are you okay? You’re all wet!” 

_First prize for stating the obvious._ “Rachel, what are you doing here?” _I haven’t seen you for two years, why have you just shown up in my home and chased away my boyfriend. If I could stand up I might kill you,_ he thought grumpily.

“I’m here for a few days apartment hunting. Sam said I could stay here.”

“Really? Because Sam and I are pretty close,” Blaine chose his words purposefully to make Rachel wonder what exactly he meant, too annoyed with her to play fair, “and he didn’t mention anything about it.”

“Sam said he was looking forward to seeing me. I didn’t know exactly when I was going to be here, I didn’t make precise plans.” Rachel must have seen that Blaine wasn’t buying it, and dropped down in the chair next to him, a pleading look on her face. “Fine, it’s possible I wasn’t completely clear.”

\-----

Kurt stood downstairs inside the entryway, arms wrapped tightly around his torso, looking out through the window at the rain. Suddenly Sam burst through the stairwell door, almost crashing into Kurt. “Kurt! You’re still here!” He skidded to a stop next to him, grabbing his shoulders with both hands. “Don’t leave, I can explain…”

Kurt angrily shrugged away from Sam. “Back off. I’m not Blaine, you can’t just cuddle me and make it better.”

“Hey, that’s not fair.” Sam let go, his hands in the air. “You can be pissed at me, I get that, but Blaine didn’t have anything to do with this.”

“Right. Like he didn’t know _she_ was going to be here.”

“No, he didn’t, and I’d really appreciate you chilling out for a minute and listening to me. You really think Blaine would do anything to hurt you? He’s happier than he’s been in years, dude, actual multiples of years. Why would he fuck that up?”

Kurt studied Sam’s earnest face, and something inside him melted. He didn’t actually think Blaine would do anything to hurt him, it was true, although he thought it was possible that Blaine would have set up a surprise meeting with Rachel to try to reconcile them. But if Blaine didn’t know about Rachel being here, he was probably sitting upstairs just as confused as he was. And somewhere outside of his current panic, a little part of his brain danced with glee – Blaine was happier than he’s been in years – because of him!

The intense need to put as much space as possible between himself and Rachel was dissipating, but he still didn’t know what to do. Kurt slid to the floor, not even caring about his clothes anymore, given how completely drenched he already was. Sam came and sat next to him, self-consciously leaving space between them.

“All right, Sam, spit it out. What’s going on?”

Sam wiped his hands on his jeans and turned towards Kurt. “Mercedes and I keep in touch, you know that, right? She mentioned that Rachel was going to be coming back to New York, and I said cool, great, it would be nice to see her, whatever. I told you and Blaine this a while ago, remember? When we talked about making dinner for her?”

“Yeah, I remember.”

“So guess Mercedes told Rachel, and Rachel decided that meant she could show up on our doorstep. She’s here to look for a place to live. I swear I didn’t know she was coming today, Kurt.”

Kurt nodded, accepting Sam’s explanation.

“But I still don’t really get why it’s so horrible. She said you guys had a misunderstanding, and she wanted to clear it up…”

Kurt tensed, the anger coming back. “A misunderstanding? That’s what she called it?”

“Ease up, Kurt, that’s all she told me.” Sam stood and paced back and forth as he spoke, his hands waving around. “Look, I don’t know what’s going on here. Why don’t you just come upstairs and dry off, and let Rachel explain? If you go home now, you’ll just be all angry and mad, and nothing will change. Give her a chance.”

“You think I should let her explain?” Kurt said coldly. He had done that once – he had listened to her biggest secret, had promised not to tell – and that was the last he had heard from Rachel Berry.

“Yes, what’s the harm? You’re going to have to face her eventually, since she’ll be back at NYADA and everything –“

“Wait, she’s coming back to NYADA?”

“Yeah, that’s what Mercedes said.” Sam shrugged. 

“Why didn’t you tell me? Why is she coming back?” Kurt hated the way his voice was starting to squeak, and his throat hurt from the effort of trying not to cry.

Sam just shot Kurt a look and shrugged. “I get that you’re upset, Kurt, but don’t you think you should be asking Rachel these questions?” he said evenly. Sam’s phone beeped and he pulled it out of his pocket to read the text. “Blaine’s freaking out. Can I please tell him we’re on our way back up?”

\-----

Blaine met Kurt at the door, his eyes wide and shoulders stiff. Sam slid past them into the apartment, grabbing Rachel by the wrist and heading down the hall. “We’re going to talk,” he said, directing Rachel into his bedroom. “You guys get changed and warm up.”

Kurt smiled hesitantly at Blaine and then pulled him in to a gentle hug. Any romance from kissing in the rain was long gone, replaced by the reality of cold, soggy clothes stuck to their shivering bodies, but it still felt like coming home to hold Blaine against him. He felt Blaine relax, his hands coming up around Kurt’s waist. “You did promise to let me get you out of these wet things,” he said lightly, pulling at the drenched polo sticking to Blaine’s back. 

Blaine laughed softly into his shoulder. “Come on, I’ve got a collection of warm hoodies I’m willing to share.” They made their way back to Blaine’s bedroom, Kurt reflecting on how this night could have been a lot more fun if dear Ms. Berry hadn’t made an appearance. Blaine made a quick visit to the bathroom and returned in a gray NYU sweatshirt and black sweatpants, his curls patted dry and messy, and then it was Kurt’s turn. He avoided more than a cursory look in the mirror – his hair was a disaster, and he didn’t have time for a rescue mission. Kurt had found a thin heather blue hoodie in the back of Blaine’s drawer that he was pretty sure had been his in high school, and he sighed a little as he pulled it on, snug now across his chest where it used to be loose. A lot had changed since he was seventeen. From his brief glance at Rachel, her hair pulled back in a reasonable ponytail and just a touch of makeup on, it looked like she had grown up too. And if she wanted to talk about the dispute that had cost them their friendship, then he could be adult enough to listen to what she had to say. Even if he felt like he was going to burst out of his skin just being in the same room with her.

Blaine was in the kitchen making tea when Kurt emerged from the bathroom, and he gratefully accepted a steaming mug. “Thanks.” He inhaled appreciatively. “Camomile?”

Blaine nodded. “Thought something calming might be a good idea.” He was setting several more mugs out, and Kurt realized that Rachel was going to be joining them any minute. His stomach clenched, and he put the mug down on the table.

“Blaine?” Blaine tilted his head at him in response, and sat down next to him at the table, extending his hand. Kurt took it, marveling once again at how good it felt just to hold this man’s hand. He took a deep breath. “Remember you asked me if the reason I hadn’t talked to Rachel in so long had to do with Finn?” Blaine nodded. “It did, but it was for a different reason than you might think.” It was all going to come out now, and Kurt was a little afraid of how he was going to react, hearing the whole story again. For that matter, he was a little afraid of how Blaine would take it. Finn’s death had hit him hard, too. “I couldn’t tell you before. I couldn’t tell anyone. I promised Rachel I would keep it a secret.” And look how well that’s gone, he thought dejectedly.

“Do you think you can tell me now?” Blaine asked gently, stroking Kurt’s hand with his thumb.

“Why don’t you let me tell it,” Rachel said, sitting down at the table across from Kurt and looking up to meet his eyes, her gaze steady. 

Damn, someone needs to get that girl a bell, Kurt thought. Here goes. “No more secrets?” Kurt challenged.

“No more secrets,” Rachel agreed. 

Sam joined them, setting down two more mugs of tea, and looked around the table at everyone’s tense expressions. “Well, this is very dramatic,” Sam mused. “Guess that’s not surprising.”

Blaine snickered and then slapped his hand across his mouth, looking abashed. “Sorry.” 

Kurt sighed and rolled his eyes. Now or never. “Go ahead, Rachel, get on with it.”

Rachel sat up straighter and squared her shoulders. “About two months after Finn died, I realized I was pregnant. I hid it for a while, no one could tell anyway, they all just assumed that any departure from my usual professional standards was because of my grief. It got to the point where I had to make a decision about what to do, and that’s when I told you, Kurt.” Kurt swallowed hard, and looked away. The memory of that conversation was not a good one. “Kurt was furious at me, for not telling him sooner, and for not being certain about whether to keep the baby. But _Funny Girl_ had just opened, and my entire career was on the line. This was my life we were talking about…” Rachel’s voice cracked, and she paused, sucking in a deep breath. “So Kurt and I fought, and I moved out. The directors replaced me with someone else, and that was that. I went to L.A. and never looked back.”

Kurt glanced up at Blaine, whose hand was clutching tightly to his. He looked as if he was struggling not to cry, which was pretty much the way Kurt had felt ever since Rachel appeared in Blaine’s apartment. “Rachel, that’s not exactly what happened…”

“Wait, what happened to the baby?” Sam asked, confused.

“I miscarried.”

“Oh, Rachel,” Blaine turned towards her, his face falling. “I’m so sorry.” 

“Me too, Rachel,” Kurt said slowly, as Sam reached over and put a hand on her knee. “But how does that change anything?”

Rachel shot Kurt a withering look. “I’m not going to go there with you again, Kurt. I was just trying to talk about my options with you, the one person I thought I could trust, and you totally shut me down.”

“No, I didn’t -“

“Besides, it wasn’t Finn’s baby.”

“What?” Now Kurt was really confused. 

“The last time Finn and I had intercourse was Mr. Schue’s non-wedding, months before I got pregnant.”

“But, you were with him after that…” Kurt protested.

“Yes, when I came to Ohio for Blaine’s admittedly lovely and over the top proposal, I saw Finn. But we didn’t have _relations,_ Kurt. We were still trying to figure things out…” Rachel’s face crumbled.

“I don’t understand. If Finn wasn’t the father who was? You weren’t dating anyone else.” Kurt searched his memory, trying to remember if Rachel had been talking about any love interests in the weeks before Finn’s death. “It wasn’t Brody, was it?”

“No, it wasn’t Brody,” Rachel said, managing to sound offended in the midst of everything else. A look flickered over Rachel’s face that Kurt couldn’t quite catch, and she took another a deep breath. “Three days after Finn’s funeral, I slept with one of the dancers in my cast. It was a mistake, obviously.”

“What?” Kurt felt like he kept saying the same thing, and was starting to feel like an idiot. “Why didn’t you just tell me?”

“Oh, because deciding what to do about a stranger’s baby was so much different than if it had been Finn’s? It was still my baby, Kurt. Not to mention that I was so incredibly ashamed - here I was, wracked with grief over losing Finn, everyone watching me, and consoling me, and saying how sorry they were for my loss - and I go and do something unquestionably stupid with another man. How is that the way to honor Finn’s memory?” Rachel was starting to cry, even as she held her head up. “I didn’t want you to know what I did, and I couldn’t figure out how to keep talking about it without telling you.”

“But you just left, Rachel. You left, and you wouldn’t return my calls. I wasn’t in exactly the best shape then either, you know.” I needed you too, he thought. I was grieving, too. I lost my brother, I was losing my fiancé, and you were my best friend. Kurt could almost feel Blaine’s sympathetic eyes on him, but he couldn’t look back, knowing that any push right now would send him over the edge.

“I’m sorry,” Rachel sobbed out. “I know I should have called you. But I thought you were just going to yell at me.”

Kurt’s heart was breaking. Yes, it had been tough, listening to Rachel tell him that she was pregnant, thinking that they might be able to keep a piece of Finn with them, and then realizing that she might not keep it. But he never meant to try to tell her what to do. 

Kurt felt a hand on his shoulder as Blaine stood up. “Okay if we leave you guys to talk?” Blaine asked softly. 

Kurt nodded, and watched as Sam handed Blaine his cane and they made their way back to Blaine’s room. Taking a deep breath, he slid over into Blaine’s vacated chair, and gently put an arm around Rachel, who was leaning on the table, her head buried in her arms. “I’m sorry, too. I’m sorry you thought I was trying to tell you what to do. I would never do that, Rachel. That’s not who I am.”

“But you seemed so excited when you thought I was having Finn’s baby,” she sniffed.

“Of course, I was excited about it.” Kurt tried not to imagine a little mini-Finn toddling around the house, how happy Carole and Burt would have been. “But that doesn’t change the fact that it wasn’t my decision to make, whether Finn was the father or not.” Kurt rubbed Rachel’s back comfortingly. She accepted this for a moment or two, and then sat up. Her eyes were red and puffy, but she was still Rachel Berry strong behind them.

“I’m going back to NYADA,” she said, wiping her face.

“I know.”

“I could really use a friend there who knows his way around.”

“Me too, Ms. Berry, me too.”


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> AU after 5x02. When the New Directions’ bus crashes before Nationals, Finn is killed and Blaine is badly injured. Grieving and damaged, Kurt and Blaine call off their engagement. Two years after the tragedy, they run into each other in New York City. Klaine; Blam friendship.
> 
> Warnings for past character death (Finn), discussion of depression, injuries.

The morning after Rachel unexpectedly showed up in New York, she breezed into the apartment with a box full of pastries, chattering eagerly about her plans as Blaine cleared a spot on the table for her and Sam brewed some coffee. When they woke up that morning to find Rachel gone the boys had assumed she would be out for the day apartment hunting, but they were apparently mistaken.

“I didn’t wake you guys up, did I?” Rachel chirped. She had witnessed the two of them stumbling out of Blaine’s room just moments ago, as she let herself in with the spare key she had apparently nabbed from the hall table. Blaine glanced at Sam, in his sweats with his hair all rumpled and messy, looking pretty obviously like he just rolled out of bed. Blaine wasn’t in much better shape, although he had gotten too warm during the night and stripped off his heavy sweatshirt, pulling on an old Dalton t-shirt only when he heard Rachel ringing the doorbell; why she had to ring the doorbell when she had a key he had no idea. It probably wasn’t just to annoy him, but he couldn’t be sure.

Blaine yawned. It wasn’t even eight o’clock yet, he still had plenty of time before physical therapy, and the combination of margaritas and dramatic conversation the night before had really taken it out of him. He wasn’t sure how much bright and cheery Rachel he could deal with, but he supposed that after some coffee he’d feel better. It seemed like Rachel and Kurt were friends again, or at least on their way there, and that made Kurt happy, and anything that made Kurt happy made Blaine happy, or at least it likely would after some coffee. So he’d buck up and entertain Rachel, despite having what he had to admit was probably a bit of a hangover.

“I’d love to find a place around here, but I’m not cut out for rooming with just anyone, and you just can’t get anything bigger than a closet in this neighborhood for a reasonable price. Do you think Kurt is looking for a roommate? I hate to think of him all alone in the city.”

Blaine wasn’t sure if he wanted to laugh at Rachel for assuming that Kurt was alone, or smack her for leaving him alone for so long. If she had cared so much, why didn’t she reach out before now? Sam set a fresh cup of coffee on the table in front of him, Blaine silently thanking him with a touch on the arm. At least Sam was here with him to dilute Rachel’s intensity.

“You two are so lucky, this place is beautiful, and so conveniently located, even if you’re not going to NYADA. Was it a gift from your parents, Blaine?” Rachel’s eyes flicked over Blaine’s hand where it was wrapped around his coffee cup, and then over to Sam’s. “Maybe in anticipation of something more permanent?”

Sam stifled a giggle, catching on to Rachel’s meaning just before Blaine did. “Blaine’s parents were pretty happy when we decided to move to New York together. They threw us the most awesome party.”

“That’s so sweet,” Rachel cooed. “You know, I wasn’t sure whether to believe the rumors or not, but seeing you two together, I don’t know how anyone could doubt it.” Apparently Rachel hadn’t noticed Blaine and Kurt holding hands last night. It’s true that she had been focused on other things; Blaine could forgive her for not noticing that he was in fact reunited with the love of his life. Who was not, rumors aside, Sam Evans.

Sam smirked and poked Blaine’s foot with his under the table. “So, Rachel, was my bed comfortable enough for you?” Sam asked, feigning politeness. After Rachel and Kurt’s late night reconciliation marathon, Rachel had tucked herself into Sam’s bed before anyone could discuss sleeping arrangements with her. Although they would have preferred to have Rachel stay on the couch, or at least offer to do so – like any rational house guest would – no one was interested in arguing with her in the wee hours of the morning. Sam had already dozed off in Blaine’s bed, but moved out to the living room when Kurt shuffled in, both of them looking awkwardly at Blaine as if he could somehow make the idea of the three of them sharing a bed more socially acceptable. Not that this had stopped them the last time, but to be fair, it had been pretty crowded with all of them in one bed. Blaine had momentarily considered taking the couch himself, but then Kurt was sliding under the covers with him, a warm hand on his arm, and that was the end of that. He fell asleep in seconds and didn’t wake up until Rachel began her vocal exercises the next morning, followed quickly afterwards by Sam pouncing on his bed, demanding that Kurt put a stop to the noise. Kurt had given Sam a “you don’t know the half of it” look and darted off into the bathroom, leaving Sam and Blaine to hide under the blankets and try to go back to sleep.

“Oh, yes, I slept very well, thank you,” Rachel replied. “Kurt did seem surprised when I headed off to Sam’s room, but I knew you’d understand that I just wouldn’t be able to sleep well on the couch.” Rachel directed this comment at Blaine, as if they shared a particular inability to sleep on living room furniture. “And obviously Sam’s bed doesn’t get much use…” Rachel giggled. 

Blaine assumed that meant that Sam must have washed his sheets recently, which was at least a point for them in the hospitality column. Unanticipated guests made being an adult very difficult.

“Well, Blaine’s bed _is_ awfully comfortable,” Sam said, giving Blaine an exaggeratedly sweet smile and playfully tousling his hair. Sam was having way too much fun with this, Blaine thought, reaching up to pat his hair back into place. He heard the bathroom door open and smiled to himself, thinking that perhaps the performance was reaching its climax. 

Kurt glided over to the table, looking sleep-mussed and sexy, still wearing the hoodie and sweats Blaine had loaned him the night before. Blaine’s heart raced as Kurt sat down in the chair next to his and pressed a lingering kiss to his cheek, his breath fresh and minty. “Morning,” Kurt said, looking right at Blaine, and setting his hand lightly over Blaine’s wrist where it rested on the table. Blaine loved sleepy Kurt, all relaxed and open. He was a little surprised that sleepy Kurt was making an appearance this morning in his kitchen with Rachel and Sam, but if Kurt wanted to put on a show, he wasn’t going to get in the way. Not if it involved kisses and heart eyes.

Rachel cleared her throat, and Kurt turned in response, slowly pulling his gaze away from Blaine. “Oh, good morning to you guys too,” he said lazily. Kurt rolled his shoulders and stretched. “I think I’ve got a bit of a sore spot.” He rubbed the back of his neck with his hand. “Sam, I blame you. That was not a gentle way to be woken up.”

“Sorry, dude, can’t help it. I get enthusiastic,” Sam said, smirking again. At this, Blaine choked on his coffee, giving Kurt the opportunity to rub his back. 

“You okay, honey?” Kurt asked sweetly. Blaine just coughed again and smiled, trying not to laugh.

“All right, joke’s on me, fine.” Rachel said, annoyed. “But as appealing as it is to imagine, I refuse to believe that there was some kind of three-way sex party going on in Blaine’s bedroom last night.”

“Hey, I’m kind of offended,” Blaine protested. “Why couldn’t I have a sex party?” 

“Are any of you actually dating each other, or have you just replaced Bruce the boyfriend pillow with models who pay rent?”

“He doesn’t actually pay rent,” Blaine pointed out.

“And I’m not a model,” Sam corrected her.

Kurt tapped a finger to his forehead. “I don’t think that’s what she meant.”

“Ugh!” Rachel stood up, hands on her hips. “You’re not being very nice to me. And I bought you danishes!”

\-----

When Rachel revealed her plans for the day, they realized the first place she was looking at was over by the gym, and Sam suggested that he walk over with her on his way to work. Before he left, Sam took Kurt aside. “I really am sorry about last night, dude.”

“That’s okay, Sam. I think it may have been for the best.” Thinking about Rachel still hurt a little, but Kurt was really excited about the idea of having his friend back. Part of him felt silly for accepting her apology so easily, but he figured there wasn’t much use in holding a grudge, not when he understood what she had been going through. And he didn’t want to dwell on it – didn’t want to rehash how lonely he had felt when Rachel moved out. That was in the past. Although he might hold out for a formal apology dinner, perhaps with wine, and cheesecake for dessert.

“Bet you were wishing you and Blaine had gone back to your place.” Sam had a determinedly neutral expression on his face, and Kurt almost laughed. 

“What are you trying to say, Sam?”

“I don’t know, I just mean if you had, you could have, you know, had some privacy.”

“We’re fine, Sam. Blaine likes to be here with you.” 

Sam’s face fell, and he tried again. “Rachel’s going to be here for at least a few days, sleeping in my bed and everything. Why don’t I take her out one of these nights, and you guys can do something together?”

Kurt started to protest that he and Blaine did things together all the time, but suddenly he understood. Sam knew exactly why Blaine hadn’t wanted to go to Kurt’s place - that Blaine didn’t want to leave him alone - and he was trying to tell Kurt that with Rachel staying there, he would be okay without Blaine. Kurt tried not to think too hard about Sam picturing exactly what he and Blaine could do with some privacy, but the truth was, he wouldn’t mind some alone time with his boyfriend, and he wasn’t going to look this gift horse in the mouth.

“That’s a great idea, Sam. I’ve really wanted to show Blaine my place, maybe make him dinner,” Kurt said thoughtfully. “Or he could come over after the NYADA concert. Will Rachel still be here on Wednesday?”

“Probably – she said she was staying for at least a few days.” Sam brightened up, like a kid with an ice cream cone. “So, you’d like to have Blaine over?”

“Of course I’d like that. I’ll talk to Blaine about it.” Kurt considered Sam curiously, not completely sure how to get through to him that none of this was actually a problem, lack of alone time or not. “You know, Sam, I like being here too. I’ve spent plenty of time in my own apartment, it’s great to have somewhere to hang out with friends.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Kurt took a breath, not used to having this kind of conversation with Sam, or, really, anyone. “I’ve really missed having friends like you guys. You’re both pretty special.” 

Sam blushed. “Thanks, Kurt.”

\-----

“It’s been a weird day,” Blaine said as they exited his building. Blaine was headed to PT and Kurt needed to go home for some clean clothes and then over to NYADA. Blaine had offered to lend him something to wear, but he wasn’t in the mood for a plaid shirt and polka dot bowtie, although Blaine was rocking the look himself.

“It’s barely ten o’clock in the morning, how could it be a weird day already?” Kurt asked, as Blaine took his offered arm.

“Twenty-four hours ago Sam and I were on our way to the airport in Kentucky, and since then….” Blaine trailed off, shrugging.

“Since then....?” Kurt prompted, an eyebrow raised.

Blaine grinned. “Tipsy shenanigans, a dramatic entrance by the diva queen herself, shocking revelations, bedroom farce, and, apparently, an attempt by my roommate to pimp me out.”

“You heard that conversation?”

“The apartment’s not that big, and Sam really isn’t very good at whispering,” Blaine pointed out. “Besides, I admit I had the same thought. I was going to ask Sam about it tonight. I’m kind of glad he brought it up.”

“Why? So you didn’t have to invite yourself over to my place for another evening of tipsy shenanigans?”

“Exactly. Although I’m not so sure we should repeat the tipsy part so soon. This is the first time I’ve had a hangover since the tequila incident, and I’d forgotten just how little I like it.” Blaine pouted.

“Oh, sweetie, I’m sorry,” Kurt cooed, leaning his head on Blaine’s shoulder for a moment. “Guess Rachel’s early morning vocalizing really didn’t help.”

“No, it didn’t.” Blaine smiled. “But as crazy as she is, it’s really good to see her again.” 

Kurt smiled at Blaine, reaching up to straighten his bowtie. “You look unfairly good for a guy with a hangover,” Kurt said, running his hands down Blaine’s arms, enjoying the skin he got to touch below the short sleeves of Blaine’s shirt.

Blaine blushed. “You don’t look so bad yourself.” Blaine’s eyes drifted down Kurt’s legs and back up again, looking long and sleek in the black yoga pants he borrowed from Blaine for the walk home. He frowned a little then, and glanced quickly at Kurt. “How are you feeling about the whole Rachel situation?”

“About seeing her again?” Blaine nodded, and Kurt took a breath, considering. “Remarkably good, actually. I guess I understand why she did what she did. I wish she had been able to tell me about it, not disappear on me, but I can sympathize. Turns out we’re still a lot alike.” Kurt had realized during their lengthy reunion last night that it would be rather hypocritical of him to be angry with Rachel for shutting him out, when he had acted much the same way towards other people. If his behavior was understandable, than hers certainly was too.

“Kurt?” Blaine sounded worried, and Kurt wasn’t sure why. He really was okay with seeing Rachel again.

“Yeah?”

“That fight with Rachel happened while we were still together, didn’t it?” 

Oh, that’s why he’s worried, Kurt thought. Shit. This conversation was going to put a damper on their cheerful morning. “It did.”

“Why didn’t you tell me about it?” Blaine had stopped right in the middle of the busy sidewalk, a concerned look on his face.

Kurt tilted his head towards a few empty chairs outside a coffee shop, and they moved over and sat down. “Looking back, it’s hard to believe I didn’t tell you,” he began. “But you were in really bad shape, Blaine.” 

“I’m sorry,” Blaine said tightly. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you.”

Kurt shook his head. “Honestly, you were in so much pain then, doped up all the time, even if I had told you, you probably wouldn’t have remembered.” Kurt ducked his head down to try to catch Blaine’s eye and gave him a little smile. “Hey, I’m joking.” He put a hand on Blaine’s knee and took a deep breath. “To put it in perspective, I didn’t even tell my dad that Rachel moved out, at least not for a long time. I didn’t want people’s sympathy; I didn’t want people to worry about me more than they already were. And I didn’t want to deal with more questions – what happened between you and Rachel, Kurt, you’re such good friends, it can’t be that bad…” 

Blaine looked up and met Kurt’s eyes, and then crashed into him, wrapping his arms around him so tightly he could barely breathe. “I hate that she did that to you, and I hate that I didn’t even know,” he declared. 

“Well, you know now. Everybody knows.”

“Not everybody. Just us and Sam.” Kurt pondered this for a minute. He wondered if Rachel had been as lonely as he had been, or if she had found someone else to confide in over the past few years. Maybe she talked to Mercedes? A thought occurred to him then, and it made him feel warm all over.

“You know what everyone _is_ going to know, though?” Kurt smiled against Blaine’s cheek, and pulled back to look at him, Blaine’s wide eyes questioning.

“No, what?”

“That I have my amazing boyfriend back.”

Blaine beamed then, the light coming back into his face. “You think Rachel’s going to tell?” It wasn’t that they had been keeping it a secret, exactly, they just hadn’t come out of their bubble long enough to put themselves on display. At least that’s how Kurt thought of it.

“I think she probably already has.” Kurt leaned in and gave Blaine a quick kiss. Because he could do that now, whenever he wanted to. “Want to put it in on Facebook before all of the New Directions start texting us?”

“You sure?”

“So sure.” Kurt kissed Blaine again, bouncing a little as he pulled out his phone. They both typed away for a few minutes, then looked at each other and laughed. “Facebook official,” Kurt said happily. Facebook might not be his favorite thing, but there was something comforting about the silly ritual.

Blaine held out his phone to take a selfie of them, but Kurt pushed it away. “Are you kidding? With the way I look right now?” He swiped away on his own phone for a minute and then held it up to show Blaine. “Let’s use the picture Sam took of us before the NYADA fundraiser. We looked fabulous that night.”

The Facebook update complete, Blaine glanced at his watch and sighed. “I’ve got to go, or I’ll be late for PT.” Kurt stood and held out his hand to help Blaine up. “Not that reuniting you and your long lost bestie isn’t wonderful and all,” Blaine said, smiling, “but I really would like a do-over of last night.”

“Starting when we decided to go to your place?” 

“Exactly.” 

“Good thing your roommate’s got your back, then,” Kurt teased. He gave Blaine a soft kiss on the lips, lingering just a moment. “As much as I’ll enjoy a little privacy… will you make sure Sam knows I don’t mind coming over to your place?”

“You really don’t mind?”

“I understand why you want to be there. How could I fault Sam for feeling the way he does?” Kurt took Blaine’s hand and squeezed it. “I think I’ve just been realizing how many people were hurt by that stupid bus crash. It sounds ridiculous when I say it out loud, because obviously lots of people were hurt. I guess it’s one thing to know it logically, and another to see people you care about still in pain.” Kurt saw the recognition in Blaine’s eyes.

“It hurts, though, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah. But I think in a weird way it’s helping me feel better. Less alone.”

Blaine leaned in for another kiss, then rested his forehead against Kurt’s. “Would it be too cheesy to tell you that you’re not alone?”

“Maybe. But I’ll excuse it this time.” Because Kurt believed it. The connection he used to feel with Blaine was back, and he never wanted to lose it again.


	21. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> AU after 5x02. When the New Directions’ bus crashes before Nationals, Finn is killed and Blaine is badly injured. Grieving and damaged, Kurt and Blaine call off their engagement. Two years after the tragedy, they run into each other in New York City. Klaine; Blam friendship.
> 
> Warnings for past character death (Finn), discussion of depression, injuries.

Kurt glanced at his phone again and frowned. No new messages. His only contact with Blaine today had been a short text from him this afternoon saying that he was sorry, but he wouldn’t be able to go to the NYADA concert with him tonight. Which also meant that he wasn’t coming over to Kurt’s place afterwards for their sexy times do-over. Kurt didn’t understand what had happened, and more than that, he didn’t understand why Blaine wouldn’t answer his calls. It wasn’t like him – since they’d been back together, Blaine had always texted back, and picked up right away, even once when he was in the middle of a video game with Sam (although after Sam’s reaction to that last one, he thought Blaine might reconsider next time). Kurt was getting desperate.

**From Kurt: Sam?**

**From Sam: Hi Kurt.**

**From Kurt: Are you going out with Rachel tonight?**

**From Sam: No.**

Did Blaine stay home because Rachel changed her plans, and he didn’t want to leave Sam home by himself? Why couldn’t these guys get it into their heads that this was not a problem. Kurt shook his head. There was a pretty easy solution to this.

**From Kurt: Do you want to come to the NYADA concert tonight?**

**From Sam: No thanks.**

Maybe Sam was feeling bad, and Blaine was staying home because of that? 

**From Kurt: Are you okay?**

**From Sam: Yeah, totally fine.**

Kurt sighed. He didn’t think Sam would just tell him what was going on with Blaine, but you never knew with Sam.

**From Kurt: Is Blaine mad at me?**

**From Sam: Why would you think that?**

**From Kurt: Because he cancelled our date tonight, and he won’t talk to me.**

**From Sam: Keep your eyes on the prize.**

**From Kurt: What is that supposed to mean?**

**From Sam: What did I tell you the other night about Blaine?**

Kurt thought about this, remembering his mini-freakout in the entryway when he thought – briefly – that Blaine arranged a surprise meeting with Rachel without telling him.

**From Kurt: He’s happy?**

**From Sam: Got it in one.**

**From Kurt: So you’re saying he’s not mad at me?**

**From Sam: I shouldn’t be talking to you about this. Or he’ll be mad at ME.**

**From Kurt: Then why won’t he go out with me tonight? Is he hurt?**

**From Sam: No more than usual.**

Ouch. 

**From Kurt: Is Blaine there with you?**

**From Sam: How would I know?**

**From Kurt: I don’t know, look around?**

Kurt wasn’t sure his sarcasm would translate through text, and anyway, this was Sam. He might actually just look around.

**From Sam: Shit, he wants to know who I’m talking to. I told him Tina, but he doesn’t believe me. Quick, what am I talking to Tina about?**

**From Kurt: Does she still like it when you talk about her boobs?**

**From Sam: You’re a genius!**

**From Sam: I guess I just gave away that he’s here. You really are a genius.**

**From Kurt: Please, Sam, tell me what’s going on.**

**From Sam: Hang on, Blaine’s trying to read the texts. Luckily he can’t move very fast.**

**From Sam: I’m in the bathroom now, but I can’t stay long. He’ll get suspicious.**

**From Kurt: Is he upset about NYADA? Did he not want to go there?**

**From Sam: You mean tonight, or ever? Sorry, that’s kind of a tangent.**

**From Kurt: Nice vocab word.**

**From Sam: Shut up.**

**From Kurt: Is Blaine upset with me?**

**From Sam: What did I tell you?**

**From Kurt: Fine, then why won’t he talk to me?**

**From Sam: I can’t tell you.**

**From Sam: I give up. Get your ass over here and ask him yourself.**

Kurt’s heart leapt. That was exactly what he wanted to do. But he didn’t want to make the situation worse. Shouldn’t he respect Blaine’s wishes and give him some space? 

**From Kurt: Are you sure? He clearly doesn’t want to see me tonight.**

**From Sam: That’s ridiculous. He obviously wants to see you.**

**From Kurt: I’m confused. But I’m coming over. You better be right.**

Kurt wished Sam had just told him what was wrong, but he understood that Sam was trying to do right by his friend. Kurt knew Sam had Blaine’s best interests at heart. And if Sam said Blaine _did_ want to see him, he would take him at his word. 

Less than an hour later, Kurt was outside Blaine’s apartment. He had texted Sam a few minutes ago, just to give him a heads up and make sure they were still there. Cryptically, Sam told Kurt not to ring the doorbell, just come in. As promised, the door was ajar, and Kurt slowly pushed it open, amazed when it didn’t even creak. Blaine and Sam were on the couch, Blaine wearing the same old Dalton t-shirt and striped sleep pants that Kurt had worn the night of the fire at Kurt’s apartment building. Sam glanced quickly at Kurt when he came in, said something to Blaine about getting a book, and went off to his room.

“Hey, Blaine,” Kurt said, trying to keep the nervousness out of his voice.

“Kurt?” Blaine looked startled, and as he tried to get up off the couch, he tripped and fell down onto the ottoman and an unfortunately placed bag of pretzels. He slid down to the floor, groaning and burying his face in his hands.

Kurt came over and sat down next to Blaine, back against the ottoman, feet stretched out in front of him. Blaine rubbed his palms over his face and turned his head, looking sideways at Kurt through his fingers. "Hi.”

“You okay?”

This was obviously not what Blaine had been expecting him to say, as he was already launching into apology mode. “I’m sorry about tonight, I just -“

“It doesn’t matter,” Kurt interrupted him. “Just tell me what’s wrong.”

Blaine pulled his knees up to his chest and wrapped his arms around them. Kurt noticed how his sleep pants were a little too long, covering his feet, and warmed at how cute his boyfriend was. Focus, Kurt. He sighed. Blaine clearly wasn’t volunteering any information. “Is it your parents? Cooper?”

Blaine shook his head, looking more and more miserable.

“Did I do something?”

“No, it’s not you,” Blaine said fervently. “It’s just…” Blaine couldn’t seem to get any more words out. He let his head fall to his knees, his eyes scrunched closed, his shoulders shaking. He looked so small, all curled up and, well, frightened.

Kurt slowly put an arm around Blaine’s shoulders, hating the way he was trembling. “Are you scared?”

Blaine nodded. “It’s so stupid,” he choked out.

“Feelings aren’t stupid.” Kurt pulled Blaine closer, his insides clenching with worry. “What are you scared of? Maybe I can help.” He spoke softly, trying to pour his love for this boy into his words, make him understand that it was safe to talk to him.

“I have to have surgery again.” 

Okay, that was legitimately scary. Given how badly Blaine’s first surgery after the accident had gone, and the pain of each of the following ones, it was no wonder he was frightened. “That’s awful. How come?”

“Something about the way my leg healed, where it was broken the worst, bone fragments or something.” Blaine’s hand rubbed at his right thigh, as if to protect the area in question. “They think it will help with the pain.”

Kurt wondered how much pain Blaine was in, day to day. He didn’t talk about it very much, aside from an occasional comment about wanting to sit down. Kurt realized that the time for the talk about Blaine’s leg was apparently right now. Something else to cross off the list. “Can I ask you something?” 

Blaine nodded.

“How often does your leg hurt?”

Blaine looked confused for a moment, then gave a weak smile. “Sam said I was going a good job. Guess he was right.”

“Good job with what?”

“Not letting on how much it hurt.”

“Oh, honey.” Now Kurt felt like he was going to cry. “You don’t have to hide from me, remember?”

Blaine huffed out a laugh. “Well, it’s like you said the other day. It’s one thing to know something logically….”

“Can I ask you another question?” At Blaine’s nod, Kurt asked “How much of your difficultly walking is due to pain?”

This one Blaine didn’t seem to have any trouble answering. “Depends on the day. Even when there’s no pain, my leg is still stiff and my balance gets thrown off. That’s what we work on in PT, mostly. But most days, the pain is an issue too. Some days worse than others.”

“Can I ask you another question?” Kurt smiled, and Blaine smiled back.

“Sure.”

“If the surgery might help with the pain, why are you scared?”

At this, Blaine’s smile disappeared, and he tensed up again. Kurt tugged Blaine closer until his head was on Kurt’s chest, his knees on Kurt’s lap. “I’ve got you,” he said softly. “Just talk to me.”

Blaine breathed deeply in Kurt’s arms, as if he was gathering his strength. “I don’t want to be back there. I know this surgery is just a little thing compared to all the other ones, but thinking about it just brings me right back to how I felt then. Like there was no point in anything, like I was never going to get better. Today the doctor was trying to tell me about what he was going to do, and about what the recovery would be like, and I just kept getting these flashbacks of doctors telling me that I’d be on my feet in no time, and then being totally, completely wrong.” Blaine took another deep breath. “And I don’t want to do it again, the recovery. It was so hard – it’s still so hard – and this will only push me backwards.” He paused, and when he spoke again, Kurt could barely hear him. “What if it goes wrong? What if I can’t recover this time?” Kurt knew what he wasn’t saying, the same thing that had haunted him two years ago, that had seemed like it was going to come true: what if I can never walk again?

“But this is really just a minor surgery, right?”

“Yeah, but even minor surgeries can go wrong, infections, whatever.” Blaine wasn’t being irrational – it seemed like everything that could go wrong with his previous surgeries had. 

“Barring any unusual problems, though, what did the doctor actually say about recovery time after this surgery? Because most of the time they want people to walk around as soon as you can after surgeries, right?”

Blaine shrugged, his shoulder bumping up against Kurt’s chest. “Not if it’s your leg that’s broken.”

“But your leg isn’t broken anymore. And it’s not as if they’re going to rebreak it, right?” That had happened to Blaine before, and it had not gone well.

“No, they’re not.” Kurt let out a little sigh of relief at that, and Blaine heard him. “Yeah, me too.” Blaine took a breath and sat up a little, looking at Kurt. “They said I’d probably be back to where I am now in two to four weeks.”

“When’s the surgery?”

“Next Friday.” Two days after Blaine’s NYADA performance, Kurt thought.

“So, even if it’s four weeks, that’s before school starts. That’s not so bad, right?”

Blaine moved off of Kurt and laid his head back against the ottoman, looking up at the ceiling. “I guess. But it isn’t what I wanted for the rest of my summer. Things were going so well… you shouldn’t have to deal with this.”

“Blaine?” Kurt waited until Blaine had turned to him to respond, and then got up on his knees, facing Blaine and meeting his gaze directly. “It’s been over two years since Finn’s death. I’m still sad sometimes, but I’m no longer an unmedicated ball of swirling grief. I promise you, I can handle your minor surgery, and your bedridden, mopey self, and any wheelchair challenges that come along.” Kurt took Blaine’s hands in both of his and held them tightly. “I know it might be hard, given what happened last time, but you can trust me on this one now. Okay?” Please trust me, Blaine.

Blaine eyes scrunched closed, and a tear escaped. “Okay.” 

Kurt slid around to his side and pulled him into a tight hug, holding him as Blaine finally let go and cried, his tears making little wet spots on Kurt’s shirt. “I’ve got you, honey, it’s okay,” he murmured. “We’re going to be all right this time, I promise.” And with all his heart, he meant it. His dad was right – he wasn’t likely to get another chance to make it work with Blaine, and he wasn’t going to screw this one up.


	22. Chapter 22

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> AU after 5x02. When the New Directions’ bus crashes before Nationals, Finn is killed and Blaine is badly injured. Grieving and damaged, Kurt and Blaine call off their engagement. Two years after the tragedy, they run into each other in New York City. Klaine; Blam friendship.
> 
> Warnings for past character death (Finn), discussion of depression, injuries.

“Let’s go to the beach,” Kurt said, interrupting Rachel’s complaint about how a landlord she spoke with that afternoon had seemed unimpressed by her Broadway credentials and had the nerve to inquire about her ability to pay the rent. Rachel had been talking non-stop about her search since she came back to the apartment that night, although she had been momentarily distracted by tripping over the grocery bag of melting Ben & Jerry’s ice cream Kurt had left by the door. Blaine and Kurt had been curled up on the couch when she came in, on the edge of moving past the gentle kisses stage into something more heated, but relocated to the kitchen when Rachel suggested making milkshakes out of the melting ice cream. Blaine thought her idea was particularly clever, and it had the added bonus of giving him the opportunity to tease Kurt, playing with the straw with his tongue. At Kurt’s statement about the beach, he let the straw slip out of his mouth and tried to focus. 

Sam slurped up the last of his milkshake and patted his stomach contentedly. “The ocean? Awesome idea. I need to work on my tan.”

“Oooh, yes, I love the beach!” Rachel exclaimed. “Although I’m not sure the ones around here can really compete with West Coast beaches.”

“Wait,” Blaine said, his brain finally catching up. “Kurt, I didn’t think you liked the beach?”

Kurt turned to Blaine, a scheming look in his eye. “Just because I’ve lived on the East Coast for three years and haven’t gone to the beach once doesn’t mean I don’t like it.” Kurt leaned in and whispered in Blaine’s ear, “Sam got to go swimming with you. Now it’s my turn.”

\----

Saturday morning dawned bright and sunny, and even Rachel’s early morning vocal exercises couldn’t dampen Blaine’s mood. He loved the beach, and whether or not Kurt was mostly doing this for him – to distract him from his upcoming surgery, or to tease him by spending the day almost naked – he was going to make the most of it.

Rachel had been put in charge of refreshments, but after much arguing over what to do, she had finally brought home a take-out menu from a nearby deli and everyone had made their own selections. She picked up the food that morning and packed it into a cooler, then stood in the kitchen glaring at Sam while he slowly finished his coffee.

“Relax, Rachel, we’re got plenty of time,” Sam said. “Kurt isn’t going to be here until ten.” Kurt had somehow managed to borrow a car from Cora, his NYADA classmate, who had also given him some tips on where to go and driving directions to Jones Beach on the south shore of Long Island. Blaine had stuffed his backpack with towels and sunscreen, and had found his sunglasses with the yellow frames, which he thought looked particularly nice tucked into the neck of his white polo. For now he had track pants on over his bathing suit, and was pointedly not thinking about his leg. He was going to have fun today, and he was not going to feel awkward about the fact that walking on the soft sand was likely to be about ten times harder than walking on concrete. 

Sam had on bright blue Hawaiian print board shorts, and at the moment, no shirt. Blaine managed to convince him that he’d be more comfortable on the drive out if he had one, so he reluctantly went back to his room and found a melon colored t-shirt. Blaine had thought more than once that Sam would make an excellent surfer, and today he definitely looked the part.

Finally ten o’clock rolled around and Kurt texted to let them know he was outside. They piled into the elevator, Rachel nearly bumping into the wall as the wide brim of her sun hat interfered with her ability to see where she was going. Blaine thought that Kurt was remarkably calm about driving through the city and over the bridge, although he was nervous just watching him. Blaine finally relaxed as they found their way to the right highway, and settled in, watching the world go by through the window. Sam plugged in his iPod and put on a mix of 80’s rock and roll, and the four of them sang along happily as they cruised down the road. It was as picture perfect as such a moment could be, and Blaine was already grateful to Kurt for arranging the day. He took Kurt’s hand where it rested between them on the console, and brought it to his lips, placing a soft kiss on Kurt’s palm. Kurt glanced quickly at Blaine, and his smile remained when he shifted his gaze back to the road.

Blaine’s happy mood was challenged when they arrived, the parking lot full to bursting, and the water itself seemingly a million miles away. But Sam immediately insisted that Blaine climb up on his back, and soon enough they had managed to get themselves and all their gear down to the beach. Kurt picked a spot relatively close to the water’s edge. The sand was wet there and not as squishy, and Blaine thought he might have a fighting chance walking around, especially if Kurt continued to stick close. The salt air seemed to be making Kurt particularly frisky, as he seemed determined to keep his hands on Blaine, playing with his sunglasses and pushing his hair out of his face at every opportunity. This was fine by him.

Rachel and Sam were spreading out their beach blankets – again, courtesy of Cora – and had wasted no time divesting themselves of extraneous clothes. Rachel looked beautiful in her black one-piece and movie star sunglasses. She immediately asked Sam to put sunscreen on her back, and then Sam did the same for her, although Blaine thought neither of them did a particularly thorough job. He intended to spend quite a bit more time on Kurt. Sam grabbed his phone and took a few pictures of them, in various pairs and all together, and then tucked his phone back into his bag. 

Moments later Rachel pulled Sam away to go test out the water, and Blaine and Kurt were left by themselves, or at least as by themselves as they could be surrounded by a sea of people in various stages of undress and sunburn. Blaine loved the noise of the ocean beach, the pounding of the surf, the whistle of the wind, and people yelling and laughing. He could hear music playing somewhere nearby, though not quite clearly enough to make it out. Blaine glanced over at Kurt, who was applying some fancy brand of sunscreen to his long legs, looking like a young James Dean in his sunglasses and white t-shirt, his hair still miraculously coiffed. Although Blaine was willing to guess James Dean never owned a t-shirt from Marc Jacobs, and now that he thought about it, he wasn’t sure if the beach was a James Dean thing at all. No matter.

Kurt peeled off his shirt, his whole body exposed now except for his short black swim briefs. Blaine took off his polo, folding it and placing it in his bag. “Want me to do your back?” he asked Kurt, who was rubbing his arms and face meticulously. 

“Sure.” Kurt situated himself in front of Blaine, and groaned with pleasure as Blaine started to lotion him up. Blaine took his time, enjoying the feel of Kurt’s skin under his fingertips. It felt like he had almost skipped a step, somehow – they hadn’t yet taken their shirts off during their various make-out sessions, and yet here he was, in front of all these people, with his hands all over Kurt.

“Okay now, your turn.” Kurt moved behind Blaine and began the same process, coating his back with sunscreen with the same precision he had used on himself. Then Kurt paid careful attention to the back of his neck, his fingers going just up to Blaine’s hairline. He slid his hands up over Blaine’s shoulders and down his chest, pulling Blaine back against him to press a kiss just under his ear.

“Mmm, nice,” Blaine said appreciatively, letting his head fall back against Kurt. Kurt squeezed out some more sunscreen and worked on Blaine’s arms, then laced his arms around Blaine’s middle, his fingers toying with the waistband of his pants. 

“You’re going to take these off too, right?” Blaine nodded, bracing himself for the awkward moment that was sure to follow. He hooked his fingers into his pants, leaning back against Kurt as he pushed them down over his butt, and easily pulled his left leg out, then took a breath as he prepared for the contortion that was required to deal with his right leg.

Kurt’s hands landed on top of his, and Blaine paused. “Let me help?” Kurt slid around in front of Blaine and gently pulled the pants the rest of the way off. Kurt picked up the sunscreen again and met Blaine’s eyes, asking permission to continue. He nodded again, leaning back on his elbows and closing his eyes as Kurt started on his right thigh, his fingers immediately coming into contact with the scars there. Kurt had seen them before, of course, angry and red, jagged ones from the accident interspersed with neat lines from surgery, but that was a long time ago.

“Does this hurt?” Kurt asked softly as he carefully worked the sunscreen into Blaine’s skin. Blaine shook his head. “They look a lot better now,” he remarked, glancing quickly up to Blaine for his reaction, and Blaine was glad that his sunglasses hid his eyes. 

“They do,” Blaine agreed. The scars had faded to a light tan, and were partially hidden by the hair on his leg anyway, but they still sometimes seemed to Blaine like a neon sign advertising his weakness. He tried not to think about the new one that would get added to his collection next week.

Kurt dropped a kiss to his thigh, right over the scars, and then squeezed out some sunscreen onto his left leg and began working it in. Blaine was frozen, wanting to say something, but he wasn’t sure what it was, so he just sat still, letting Kurt soothe him.

“Close your eyes.” Kurt removed Blaine’s sunglasses and proceeded to put lotion on his face, holding Blaine’s cheek with one hand while he traced around Blaine’s eyes. Blaine could feel the heat coming off Kurt’s skin, both of them smelling of the sunscreen and a little bit of sweat. Kurt put an extra dab on Blaine’s nose, and then kissed him softly. “I think you’re done.”

Blaine reached for Kurt and kissed him back, then pulled him into a slightly sticky hug. “I adore you, Kurt Hummel.”

“Same here.” Kurt smiled broadly and got to his feet, holding out his hand. “Come on, let’s go swimming.”

The wind had been calm the past few days so the waves weren’t as high as Sam had hoped for, but Blaine was a little relieved – he didn’t think Kurt would be that excited about the surf, and he wasn’t sure that his leg would stand for much tossing around. When they got down to the water, Sam and Rachel splashed out to greet them, and demanded they come right in. It was freezing cold, and Blaine was in fact nearly toppled by the first big wave that hit him, but Sam grabbed him around his waist and steadied him. By the time the next big wave came he was ready, diving through it and coming up safely on the other side, where he was shortly joined by Kurt and Rachel. They swam out a little bit, then body surfed back in, repeating this until Blaine was exhausted. Kurt looked ready for a break too, so they all headed back up to their blankets to let the hot sun warm them back up.

Sam got the food out of the cooler and they all lounged about, exchanging bits of their sandwiches and salads, and discussing the very scientific fact that food simply tasted better when you were at the beach. Rachel pointed out that the mere presence of so much salt in the air obviously caused this phenomenon, and they all took tiny bites out of her caramel brownie, debating whether the person who thought of salted caramel got the idea from a beach trip. Kurt finished re-applying sunscreen to his entire body – rather more quickly than he had the first time around, but still being careful to cover every exposed inch – and then looked appraisingly around the group, waiting for a pause in the conversation.

“Kurt? What’s up?” Blaine slid the empty container from his fruit salad into the bag they had designated for trash, and gave Kurt his full attention, poking Sam on the leg until he did the same. Even Rachel noticed, and turned to Kurt, a curious look on her face.

“There’s something I wanted to do while we’re here, and I thought you guys might want to do it with me.” Kurt looked a little nervous. Blaine had no idea what he was talking about, but he smiled in what he hoped was an encouraging manner. “Right after I came to New York, the fall after graduation, Rachel introduced me to a custom called tashlich.” Kurt pronounced the Hebrew word carefully and looked at Rachel for approval. “It’s something Jewish people do around the Jewish new year. You go to a body of running water and symbolically cast off your sins by throwing bits of bread into it, to give yourself a fresh start. Rachel took me to the Brooklyn Bridge, and there were crowds of people there, all thinking about ways they could be better people, and saying goodbye to the past.”

“Kind of like a new year’s resolution?” Sam asked.

“Yeah, but I don’t want to wait for new year’s.” Kurt looked at each of them in turn, determined. “I’m not saying we have sins to atone for. But there are things I’d like to say goodbye to, to let go. So I want to go out in the water, and cast them off. You guys don’t have to say anything, but I’d like you to come with me.”

“Of course,” Blaine said, taking Kurt’s hand. Kurt squeezed it back, looking a little relieved. As if Blaine would deny him anything, much less support for something like this.

“I’ll come too. But,” Sam bit his lip, “can I have a few minutes to think about things first?”

“Yeah, me too,” Rachel breathed out, looking a little bit overwhelmed.

“Sure. Why don’t we meet down at the water in half an hour or so?”

Sam headed off to walk along the beach and think, and Rachel moved to sit down close to the water’s edge, looking out over the waves.

“This is a beautiful idea, Kurt,” Blaine said when they were alone. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“I don’t need to,” Kurt said. “I’ve been thinking about it for a few days.” He paused. “You don’t have to say anything, you know.”

“I know,” Blaine replied. He lay down on the blanket and Kurt did the same, their hands bumping up against each other between them. He liked Kurt’s idea, although it made him nervous, too. He thought he knew what he wanted to say. Blaine let his mind wander as the hot sun beat down on them, thinking about everything that had happened over the past two years, and what he wanted to happen in the future. And what he needed to let go.

He lay still for a while, enjoying the feel of the air and Kurt’s presence next to him. He felt Kurt shift and rolled on to his side, resting his head on an arm, finding that Kurt was doing the same, smiling at him. Blaine realized something and reached out to touch Kurt, tracing a line over his collarbone. "You always lie down to my left." Kurt nodded. "So when I roll over to face you, I'm not lying on my right leg."

"Seems only polite." Kurt smiled. "Although it does mean you'll have it risk me putting sunscreen on you with my left hand." Kurt took off his own sunglasses and Blaine's and reached over into his bag for the tube of sunscreen. "We can’t you have winding up with one of those raccoon burns where your nose is red and your eyes have big white circles around them." 

"Hey, you know I don't burn."

"That's what they all say." Kurt squeezed some lotion into his hand and then proceeded to delicately smooth it into Blaine's skin, being especially careful with the area around his eyes. He traced his forehead, then down his nose and over each of his cheekbones. Blaine thought of all the times Kurt must have paid the same careful attention to his own face, cleansing and moisturizing every morning and night.

Blaine closed his eyes, practically purring with the attention. "You like to touch my face."

Kurt paused, then rubbed his thumb along Blaine's jaw. "Is it weird?"

"No. I like it." Blaine tilted his cheek into Kurt's palm. "There's nothing about you touching me that I don't like."

"Nothing?" 

Blaine thought of Kurt gently touching the scars on his thigh earlier that day. He opened his eyes, squinting a little, and looked at Kurt. "Nothing."

Kurt gazed back, running a finger along Blaine's nose again, and then over each lip. "I just want to be close to you." Blaine let his right hand rest on Kurt's waist, not wanting to interrupt him. "I want to know your face as well as my own." Kurt smiled shyly, tilting his head at Blaine. "I sound crazy."

Crazy was just fine as far as Blaine was concerned, as long as it was Kurt. _"I don't want 'good' and I don't want 'good enough,' I want 'can't eat, can't sleep, without your love,'"_ Blaine sang softly, humming until he got to the lyric he was looking for. _"I don't want easy, I want crazy."_

Kurt grinned. "I will overlook the fact that you're singing Hunter Hayes to me, because I really do appreciate the sentiment." He kissed Blaine sweetly, then went back to mapping his face with his fingers. When he traced Blaine's eyebrows, Blaine couldn't help but laugh. 

"You're not going to tell me to trim them or anything, are you?"

"What? When have I ever done that? I love your eyebrows." Kurt smoothed a finger over each one. "Although I think you have sand in them."

"I think I have sand everywhere."

As if on cue, a gust of wind blew a stinging shower of sand over them. Blaine pushed himself up on one arm and looked around. Although the late afternoon sun was still strong and the sky was cloudless, the wind had really picked up. It reminded Blaine of sailing with Wes, just the two of them and a little boat flying on the wind, hands and bare feet holding on. Fewer people were in the ocean now, and all around them people were packing up and heading towards the parking lot.

Kurt looked at Blaine's face and then sat up to look out at the surf. "Maybe we'll do this thing sitting down by the edge of the water." He shuddered as more sand swept over them. "Whose idea was it to go to the beach, anyway?"

"Are you kidding me?" Blaine asked, sitting up and wrapping his arms around Kurt from behind, resting his chin on his shoulder as they both looked out at the sea. "This is an awesome day, Kurt. I'll never forget it."

They met Rachel and Sam down by the water’s edge, and then scooted back a bit, trying to find a spot where the highest waves would come close to them, but they wouldn’t get swamped unexpectedly. Privately Blaine thought that they were likely to get pretty wet before this was over, but he figured three people debating the issue was enough. Finally they settled in a semi-circle facing the waves, sitting pressed close together so they could hear each other over the noise of the wind and the surf. Blaine was between Sam and Kurt, and Rachel sat on Kurt’s other side. 

Kurt took a quick look at each of them, apparently found that they were ready, and began. “Thanks for doing this with me. I told Sam the other day that I was really glad to have friends like you in my life, and I mean it.” Blaine bumped his shoulder up against Kurt’s, and Rachel gave his knee a squeeze. “So I’m just going to say what I’ve been thinking about, and then if you guys want to say anything, you can.” Kurt fiddled with the bakery bag in his hand. “Oh, one more thing. If we start throwing pieces of bread now, the seagulls are going to swamp us. So I thought we’d do that all at once, at the end.”

Rachel beamed. “There’s a future for you in reform Judaism, you know, Kurt. You’ve got a real talent for adapting traditional ritual to current situations.”

“Thanks, Rach, but I think that’s one career I can safely eliminate from my options.” Kurt took a breath. “Here goes. I want to let go, once and for all, of guilt that I don’t need to feel.” His eyes flickered briefly to Blaine’s, and Blaine smiled softly at him, nodding. “And I want to be done with closing myself off from people who care about me. I’ve realized lately how much better it feels to let people in, even if it hurts a little, too. I want to be more open to both good and bad feelings, my own, and those of my friends and family.” Blaine recognized some of their conversation from the other day in Kurt’s words. It felt inexplicably good to think he may have played a part in helping Kurt want to open up again. He deserved to be surrounded by friends, not closed off and lonely.

Kurt pulled a little roll out of the bag in his hands, and looked up as Sam held his hand out. 

“Okay if I go next?” Kurt handed Sam the bag. “This was a smart idea, Kurt. It’s hard to find time just to think about things, you know?” They all nodded, but Sam wasn’t really looking at them, focused instead on his hands folded in his lap. “I think I need to let go of denial. I thought I was over the accident, that I was handling everything fine. But I’m not. I’ve got a ways to go.”

Blaine rubbed Sam’s back. “It’ll be okay, Sam. You’ll get there.”

Sam leaned against Blaine, still not raising his eyes. “Thanks, man,” he said quietly. They all sat silently for a few moments, Blaine wondering if all of them were considering Sam’s words the way he was. He wasn’t sure if the accident was ever something he was going to be over. But he could find a way to live with it, as best he could. Blaine was also relieved that Sam hadn’t said anything about him; he had been just a tiny bit worried that Sam would say he needed to let go of his dependence on him. Blaine really believed what he had told Sam on the Fourth of July - that depending on someone wasn’t a bad thing. But Sam did need to heal enough to depend on him differently, and Blaine was so proud of him for being ready to work on it.

Sam looked up, finally, and held up the bag like it was a talking stick. “Who wants to go next?” 

Blaine took the bag from him, pulled out a roll for Sam and took one for himself. “Don’t eat it,” he joked as he handed it to Sam.

“Jerk,” Sam muttered, as Kurt snickered under his breath.

Blaine settled the bag and the roll in between his crossed legs, and wiped his hands on his thighs out of habit, realizing as he did so that he was damp and salty everywhere and he wasn’t going to make his hands any drier this way. “For me, the consequences of the accident are visible to everyone around me. I can’t hide it.” His hand fell to his right thigh and the scars there. “I’ve learned a lot over the past few years about what it means to be disabled, to be different in such a public way. But I’ve let my injury change the way I see myself, too. I’d like to try to let that go, to not let it define me. I need to not let my self-consciousness get in the way of being there for my friends, and working towards my dreams.” Blaine wasn’t really sure this was possible, but he wanted to try, and figured it was worth saying out loud, here in front of Sam and Kurt, and Rachel, too. He felt Kurt’s hand come to rest on top of his, on his leg, and he knew, without a word more, that Kurt understood.

Suddenly a wave rose up the beach and rushed right up to them, catching Sam and Rachel where they sat and sliding up under Blaine. Rachel shrieked and she and Sam jumped up, Sam pulling Blaine along. Kurt grabbed the bag of bread as the retreating wave threatened to steal it away, and they all laughed. Rachel rubbed her hands over her arms, shivering a little, and took the bag from Kurt. They remained standing, letting the cold waves crash over their feet. Sam and Kurt each had an arm around Blaine, and Kurt reached over to pull Rachel next to him as well.

“I’ll try to make mine quick so we don’t all freeze to death,” Rachel began, the gusting wind whipping her hair around her face. “First, I have to thank you all for including me in this, and in your lives again.” She looked meaningfully at Kurt, who blushed under her gaze. “I mean it. I feel like you guys have been going through some in-depth group therapy program, and you just opened up your circle and let me in.”

“Much as I hate to admit it, your timing was excellent,” Kurt said. “A few months ago, and I don’t think it would have turned out the same way.”

“In any case, I’m grateful. I’m also grateful for a chance for self-reflection. As a person who too often steps on others’ toes as I reach for the stars,” Rachel paused to smile at them, apparently to make sure they realized this was meant as a joke, “I have had plenty to atone for each year on Yom Kippur. But I took Kurt’s words to heart and tried to think instead not of sins, per se, but of things I wanted to cast off. You probably expect me to say guilt over sleeping with that guy, but honestly, I’ve let that go already. My therapist certainly wouldn’t be worth what I pay her if I hadn’t.” Rachel took the bag from Kurt and held it in both hands. “What I’m working on now is why I ran away. And it’s kind of a work in progress, but I think I can say that I want to let go of the regret I feel, about leaving New York, my education, my Broadway career, and my best friend. I’d like to try to make up for lost time.” Rachel pulled the last roll out of the bag. “Shall we do this?”

\-----  
Hours later, after the trek back to the city, Kurt dropped everyone off at Blaine’s place and returned the car to Cora. He left it with a full tank of gas and a note reminding Cora that he was going to take her out for drinks as a thank you. Back at his own apartment, Kurt took a long, hot shower, amazed at the amount of sand the ocean waves had left on his body. Afterwards, warm and clean, he paced around his apartment. It was after ten, but he wasn’t sleepy. His ears were still ringing with the sound of the ocean, and he felt unsettled, as if the day hadn’t properly come to a close. He picked up his phone.

“Kurt? Hi!” Kurt grinned at how happy Blaine sounded, even after a long day.

“Hi,” Kurt said, not sure what he was going to say. But Blaine said it for him.

“Want to come over? We’re just about to order pizza. Do you still like peppers and mushrooms?”

“Yes to both.” His heart swelled. Apparently late-night delivery pizza was exactly what he needed. And, of course, Blaine. A perfect end to a perfect day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please comment! I'd love to hear from you.


	23. Chapter 23

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> AU after 5x02. When the New Directions’ bus crashes before Nationals, Finn is killed and Blaine is badly injured. Grieving and damaged, Kurt and Blaine call off their engagement. Two years after the tragedy, they run into each other in New York City. Klaine; Blam friendship.
> 
> Warnings for past character death (Finn), discussion of depression, injuries. Note: This chapter is more explicit than previous chapters.

It was Monday afternoon and Kurt had just returned to the relative coolness of his apartment. He loved New York City, but the humidity in July was not its best feature. He was standing in front of his window air conditioning unit, thinking about giving up and taking another shower, when his phone beeped with a text.

**From Blaine: Any plans for tonight?**

Kurt smiled. Although they hadn’t discussed it, he and Blaine had been seeing each other almost every day lately. At first he was a little worried about it, thinking that they ought to continue to “go slow” as he had originally intended. But then he realized that despite the amount of time they had been spending together, they were “going slow” as far as their physical relationship was concerned, while giving themselves plenty of time to get to know each other again emotionally. He felt so comfortable with Blaine now. Whatever they had done to get to this point, he thought they were doing it right.

**From Kurt: Not yet. Any suggestions?**

**From Blaine: Rachel’s still here.**

_Oh._ Kurt felt his whole body pulse as he realized what Blaine meant. It was almost comical how their attempts to spend time alone together had been thwarted so far. He had spent the night at Blaine’s after their beach day, but they had been so wind burned and exhausted from their day in the sun that they literally fell asleep on the couch without even putting the leftover pizza away. But today he was well rested, if a bit damp, and could do this properly.

**From Kurt: Can I make you dinner at my place, maybe around seven?**

**From Blaine: I’d love that.**

Kurt paused, thinking. Was there a subtle way to say “and plan on spending the night?” 

**From Kurt: Bring your stuff and we can go straight to NYADA in the morning if you want.**

Kurt had reserved the round room for a few hours early on Tuesday so that Blaine could rehearse before the concert Wednesday night. He really couldn’t wait to hear Blaine sing again.

**From Blaine: Sounds great. I’ll bring dessert.**

Blaine rang Kurt’s doorbell just after seven. Kurt quickly checked his hair in the bathroom mirror, smoothed his hands over his outfit, and went to get the door. He had kept the air conditioning on high all afternoon, finally getting the temperature down to something that allowed him to pair one of his favorite gray vests with a short sleeved shirt underneath, along with tight dark jeans. It was challenging to dress fashionably during the summer.

Blaine was dressed to impress too, wearing dark red jeans that clung to him just right, a navy button-up with a darker navy stripe running through it, and a navy bowtie with touches of red and gold. The colors of his outfit reminded Kurt a bit of Dalton. The nostalgia only intensified as Blaine held out the flowers he had behind his back. “These are for you.” Blaine’s voice was soft, and his expression hopeful.

Red and yellow roses. This was the first time their traditional flowers had made an appearance since they had reunited, the first time either one of them had given them to the other since before the accident. Kurt’s hand shook a little as he reached out to take the bouquet, automatically bringing the flowers up to his face and inhaling deeply. “Thank you, they’re perfect.” He put his free hand on Blaine’s waist and leaned in for a kiss, considering for a moment whether they could just skip the whole dinner thing and go straight to the after party.

Blaine wobbled a bit, off balance, and Kurt pulled back and laughed, steadying him. “Maybe I should let you come inside before knocking you over?”

“That might be wise,” Blaine agreed. Kurt took the bakery box out of Blaine’s hand and pointedly did not ask him how he managed to walk over here holding the box, the roses, his cane, and his backpack. 

“Wait here, I’ll be right back to give you the tour.” Kurt quickly deposited the box and the flowers in the kitchen and turned back to Blaine – not difficult given that the front door and the kitchen table were approximately three feet away from each other. He couldn’t help reaching out to touch him again, letting his hand rest on his shoulder and graze down his arm. “You’re remarkably dry for someone who walked through the tropical swamp out there.” He helped Blaine slide his backpack off and set it down gently by the door.

“I walk slowly,” Blaine said with a hint of a smile. “It does have its advantages.”

Kurt chucked. “Okay, ready for the big tour?” He loved his little apartment, but it was, by any measure, quite tiny. This was the trade-off for living alone in the village, his gift to himself when he landed the Book of Mormon gig the year before. 

“Ready.”

Kurt stood next to Blaine, one arm around his waist, and pointed to his right. “There’s the kitchen.” He had managed to fit a bistro table and two chairs in the small space, and he had two more folding chairs in the hall closet in case of additional guests. Chairs that he had just purchased last weekend. 

He waved his hand in front of them. “Here’s the living room.” The small sitting area had a love seat sized couch, a dark wood coffee table, and a television, with a tiny bookcase under the window. A rich gold and crimson rug warmed the room, and the throw on the couch and the curtains picked up the warm tones. Kurt loved this little space, and he spent most of his time here when he was at home.

“Down the hall is the bedroom and bathroom.” Kurt wasn’t sure if showing Blaine his bedroom was too forward, but Blaine didn’t seem worried, and walked over to peek in the door. 

“It’s all beautiful, Kurt. I love it.” Blaine wandered back into the living area, rubbing the textured throw between his fingers, and admiring the framed photos on the bookshelf, including the one of the two of them Sam had taken the night of the NYADA fundraiser. Kurt realized with a sigh that the colors of the room were perfect for Blaine – he could have modeled them after Blaine’s favorite gold pants and dark red polos. Kurt allowed himself a moment to feel ridiculous, and then imagined the crashing waves at Jones Beach, and cast the feeling away. He didn’t need to feel bad about unconsciously missing Blaine, if that’s what had driven his interior designing choices (in addition to the conscious missing, which had obviously been there too). And in any case, Blaine was here right now – that’s what was important.

“Why don’t you sit down and I’ll bring you a drink,” Kurt suggested. He took the bottle of pinot grigio out of the refrigerator and poured two glasses. Although he generally preferred red wine, the meal he had prepared and the sticky weather called for something fresh and light. “Wine okay?” he called out to Blaine, forgetting to check before he poured.

“Sure.”

Kurt put the glasses on a tray along with a small dish of crackers he had topped with monchego cheese and a summery fig spread. 

“Kurt, this is great! You didn’t have to go to all this trouble,” Blaine said enthusiastically, looking at the tray of goodies.

Kurt settled himself on the small couch next to Blaine and handed him a wine glass. “It’s my pleasure. I’ve been wanting to do this for a while.” It’s not often you get to make your boyfriend dinner for the first time. Although this was actually the second time. The very first time had been at his house in Lima, on a night Burt and Carole were in D.C., and Kurt had bribed Finn to stay over at Puck’s. He had made lasagna and garlic bread (rookie mistake), and while his cooking hadn’t been perfect, the night had been wonderful. Kurt had considered making lasagna again for symmetry, but the day was way too hot to have the oven on for hours. Tonight would be wonderful, too, just different. Appropriately so.

Blaine smiled and turned, pulling his left leg up under him to face Kurt, and held his glass up. “To us.”

“To us.” They clinked glassed and sipped, Kurt enjoying the crisp flavor of the wine. He watched Blaine taste it, and then, apparently deciding that he liked it, take a few more sips. Before Kurt had a chance to think very hard about it, he was kissing Blaine, tasting the wine in his mouth and on his lips. Kurt pulled back, giggling at Blaine’s expression, eyes wide and happy, still holding his wine glass out to the side in surprise. “I had to check and make sure it tasted good,” Kurt explained. “I wouldn’t want to serve inferior wine.”

“And?”

“Excellent.” 

After a little while they moved into the kitchen, Kurt putting water on to boil while Blaine sat and chatted with him. Kurt refilled their wine glasses and set his next to the stove, taking occasional sips as he stirred the pasta. 

"So how long is Rachel staying with you guys, anyway? I thought she found an apartment?" Kurt asked.

"Her lease starts August first. She's going to be here until Thursday, go back to L.A. for her stuff, go to Lima to visit her dads, and then come back here."

"So she'll be here for your performance?"

"Yup." A brief flicker of nervousness passed over Blaine's face.

"It's going to be fine."

Blaine looked up at him and relaxed. "I know. But I'd rather not think about it tonight. Plenty of time for that tomorrow."

"Okay. But before we leave the topic, can I just say that I am really looking forward to seeing you perform."

Blaine smiled. "I think that's allowed."

"In any case, it is definitely convenient that Rachel's still hanging out at your place."

"Very true." Blaine fiddled with the stem of his wine glass. "I went to see Sam's new therapist with him today." It wasn't a complete change of topic; Kurt knew exactly what Blaine was talking about.

"Oh? How'd it go?"

"Okay, I guess. It's weird, though, talking to a stranger about our relationship."

Kurt wondered if Blaine realized that he called it a “relationship” rather than just a “friendship.” "He doesn't get Blam?" 

"I'm not sure yet. Sam has only seen him a few times."

"Is he uncomfortable with the gay guy and the straight guy being so close?" Blaine didn’t reply; his hesitation made Kurt nervous. "Maybe he's not the right person for Sam?"

"I don't think that's it. I mean, Betsy talked to this guy - Betsy's his therapist from Kentucky."

"I know."

"And Betsy thought he'd be good for Sam."

"How does Sam feel about it?"

"I'm not sure. Things have been different with Rachel around. She's kind of always underfoot and we haven't really had a chance to talk about it."

Kurt gave Blaine a look. 

"I know, I know. I've got to talk to him first." Blaine made a face.

"Maybe you guys could also talk to Betsy about it. You've met with her before, right?" Kurt asked.

"Yeah, on the phone. Sam is still talking with her, too."

"Maybe you could call her, if Sam was okay with that, and tell her your concerns? I'm not saying that this guy is necessarily homophobic-"

"Yet," Blaine muttered.

"But not every therapist is cut out for every situation."

"Exactly," Blaine said glumly. "But it’s just so frustrating. It was so hard for Sam to ask for help with this at all, I hate to think of it not working out. And if this guy makes him feel like his friendship with me is wrong..."

"Sam would never believe that, Blaine." Kurt sat down in the chair next to Blaine’s and took his hand. "Sam loves you. He trusts you. If this guy seems off to you, I bet he seems off to Sam too. Just talk to him."

Blaine nodded. "Do you mind if I send him a quick text? Maybe we can have lunch tomorrow, just the two of us."

"Good idea. How about I take Rachel to lunch? It will keep her out of your hair, and we can do a little more bonding before she heads out."

Kurt sent Rachel a quick text and then busied himself with the last of the dinner preparations as Blaine texted back and forth with Sam. He ripped some romaine lettuce into small pieces and added some shelled pistachios, and tossed it all with a light vinaigrette. Kurt mixed the pasta with the fresh tomato, brie, and basil sauce he had prepared, watching the pieces of cheese melt onto the warm pasta. Then Kurt spooned out some of the pasta and a helping of salad on to each plate, and put a bowl of crusty French bread on the table. "Enjoy!"

Blaine immediately took a bite of the pasta. "Kurt, this is delicious," Blaine moaned, licking his fork.

"I think of it as grown up mac and cheese," Kurt explained. He had gone easy on the garlic this time, although it still had a little bit of a kick. 

Blaine speared one of the grilled peaches from his salad and held it out to Kurt. "You have to try this," he said excitedly.

"I know what it tastes like, silly, I made it!" But Blaine insisted and so they began feeding each other bites of their identical meals, Blaine creating perfect little tidbits for Kurt with a chunk of tomato caught inside a cheesy pasta shell, and then a bite size morsel of bread with just a touch of olive oil. When Blaine held his wine glass up to Kurt’s lips, he couldn't help laughing. "That is just asking for trouble."

Blaine's eyes grew dark and he paused, considering. "I think I can handle it." Blaine slid closer to Kurt, keeping his eyes locked on his, and slowly tilted the wine glass into Kurt's mouth. Kurt's heart was racing and it was all he could do to keep swallowing the tiny sips of wine Blaine was feeding him. "More?" Blaine asked, his voice low. Kurt nodded, and Blaine tilted the glass higher, the wine filling Kurt's mouth and spilling out on to his lips. Suddenly the wine glass was gone and Blaine's lips were on his, licking and sucking each drop of wine. Kurt brought a hand up to Blaine's cheek and leaned into the kiss, opening his mouth and letting Blaine in. Blaine had one hand on the back of Kurt’s neck and his other on Kurt’s waist, his fingers pulling up his shirt and sliding under it to stroke his bare skin. They were both breathing heavily when Kurt pulled back, smiling at the way Blaine's eyes lazily came open.

"Any chance we can continue this in the bedroom?" Kurt asked lightly.

"Assuming no one interrupts us this time, I think we can."

Kurt stood and held out a hand to Blaine, and led him slowly back to his room. Blaine leaned in the doorway as Kurt folded back the duvet. He returned to Blaine, placing his hands firmly on his slender waist. Blaine's arms came up around his shoulders, and Kurt gazed into his warm eyes. He knew what he wanted to say, he was dying to say it, but he couldn't decide if now was the time. And then Blaine was planting heated kisses on his neck, and pushing him backwards until Kurt was sitting on the bed, Blaine straddling his lap, and the time for deep thinking was over. 

Blaine unbuttoned Kurt’s vest slowly and took it off him, then started on the buttons on his shirt, kissing each newly revealed bit of skin as his shirt came open. Kurt was tingling, paralyzed as Blaine kissed him everywhere. Blaine came back up to his collarbone after his shirt was unbuttoned, nuzzling and licking. Kurt gave himself over to it and just let Blaine caress him, loving the feel of his lightly calloused fingertips as they slid over his skin. Finally Kurt made himself move. He untied Blaine's bow tie and slid it off, the sound of the silk moving through Blaine's collar going straight to his cock. It has been years since he had heard that noise in this context, but apparently his body still recognized it as a precursor to his boyfriend getting naked, and responded accordingly. He quickly unbuttoned Blaine's shirt and then they were pressed together, glorious skin against skin. Kurt ran his hands up and down Blaine's back, and then over to his chest, running his fingers through the dusting of dark hair there. Blaine gasped as Kurt flicked at a nipple, then soothed it with his tongue, repeating the process on the other side. 

"What do you want?" Kurt panted against Blaine's neck. They were still perched on the edge of the bed, Blaine sitting on Kurt's legs, his hips pushing and searching.

"Bed?" Blaine breathed out. "Clothes off?" 

Kurt gave Blaine a hard kiss in response, and then eased him off his lap, unbuckling his belt as he went. They stood, Blaine clutching Kurt's shoulders as Kurt carefully pushed Blaine's tight pants down, taking a moment to cup and caress his ass on the way. Blaine leaned into Kurt in response, breathing hard against his neck, letting Kurt touch and explore. Then Kurt sat Blaine on the bed and pulled Blaine’s pants off the rest of the way, kissing down his legs as he went, Blaine watching, eyes wide and pupils blown. Kurt made quick work of his own jeans and climbed on to the bed with Blaine, following him as he moved to the center of the bed, and then settling himself next to him. Kurt kissed him, more gently this time, not wanting this to be over too quickly. It had been far too long since he’d had this. But Blaine apparently had other ideas. He rolled toward Kurt and pulled their bodies together with a hand on the small of Kurt’s back, their hard cocks brushing against each other through the thin cloth of their briefs. "Oh, fuck, Blaine," Kurt heard himself moan, moving his hand down to Blaine's ass to pull him closer. They rutted up against each other for a few minutes, Kurt losing himself in the sensation of soft skin and the smell of his boyfriend, citrus and spice and sweat, kissing and touching and rocking together.

Just when the feel of his briefs was starting to get uncomfortable, Blaine pulled back, catching Kurt's eye, his fingers ducking under the waistband of Kurt's boxer briefs. "May I?"

Kurt nodded, and Blaine gently pulled his briefs off and set them aside. Blaine was still for a moment, then, just looking at Kurt. He blushed when Kurt caught him staring. "Sorry. You're just so gorgeous, Kurt." Blaine came back up and pulled Kurt into a hug, his arms and legs wrapped around him like an octopus. "I missed you so much," he breathed into Kurt's neck. "I didn't think we'd ever be here again. I can't believe this is real." 

"Missed you too." Kurt kissed Blaine's forehead and laced his fingers in his hair, soothing him. "It is real, though. I promise." It had been so long since he held this man in his arms. It was almost overwhelming, how good it felt, how safe. He waited for Blaine to relax, then began kissing him again, moving down to his neck, licking his collarbone and then his nipples until Blaine was practically writhing below him. "Hey, what are these still doing here?" Kurt murmured and let his fingers slide under Blaine's red briefs. He teased for a minute, dipping and stroking, loving the sounds that were spilling out of Blaine's mouth. 

"Please, Kurt," Blaine begged.

"Please what, baby?"

"Take them off. Touch me, please."

Kurt complied, pulling Blaine's briefs over his swollen cock, and down off his legs. He found the lube where he had left it under a pillow, and then moved over Blaine, both of them gasping as they touched. Kurt squeezed some lube into his hand and reached down to stroke Blaine's cock, then his own, then both of them together. "This okay?" 

"Mmm, yes, so okay." It felt so good, Blaine's body up against his own, both of them thrusting and shivering, Blaine alternating between kissing him and just panting against his shoulder. Blaine moved his hand down Kurt’s back, then to his ass, cupping and squeezing. Kurt could feel Blaine's breath coming faster and faster, his muscles clenching. "Kurt, god, yes, please," Blaine babbled, his hands grasping at Kurt. Kurt knew he was close, too, his body tightening in anticipation, and he increased the pressure on their cocks, moving faster and faster. Blaine slipped a finger down Kurt's crack and rubbed it against his hole, and Kurt exploded, come shooting out between their bodies. He kept his hand moving and felt Blaine follow a moment later, moaning and sighing. They lay there trembling, letting their hands slide over heated skin, coming back to themselves, together.

After a few minutes Kurt gave Blaine a light kiss and then rolled off the bed, returning quickly with a damp towel. He wiped Blaine off, and then himself, loving Blaine’s soft smiles. Kurt scooted back next to Blaine, pulling his fluffy comforter over them both, now cool in the breeze of the air conditioner. Blaine reached out for him, lazily tracing circles on Kurt's chest, relaxed and happy. "I adore you, Kurt Hummel," Blaine said softly, gazing into his eyes. Kurt was pretty sure this was Blaine code for “I love you.” He didn't know why they were both so shy about saying it, but it didn't matter. They had plenty of time. 

"I adore you too, Blaine Anderson." Kurt ran his hand down Blaine's side, ghosting over the scars on his thigh. "Shit, are you okay? I wasn't even thinking about your leg."

Blaine grinned. "Me neither."


	24. Chapter 24

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> AU after 5x02. When the New Directions’ bus crashes before Nationals, Finn is killed and Blaine is badly injured. Grieving and damaged, Kurt and Blaine call off their engagement. Two years after the tragedy, they run into each other in New York City. Klaine; Blam friendship.
> 
> Warnings for past character death (Finn), discussion of depression, injuries.

The next morning Kurt and Blaine had a quick breakfast of cereal and fruit and headed over to NYADA. Despite his earlier trepidation, Blaine was actually feeling pretty good about the upcoming concert. Surprising what a night of sex with your long lost love could do, he thought to himself, grinning. Not that a few mind-blowing orgasms with his amazing boyfriend could turn his life completely around or anything, but it sure didn’t hurt.

Blaine was grateful to Kurt for getting them the use of the round room for a few hours. The story was that the acoustics of the room were so perfect, there was nowhere to hide. It also apparently made your voice sound different to your own ears, although Blaine didn’t think that would be a problem, even if true. He had performed with enough faulty mic systems in his time that he doubted a room with perfect acoustics was going to be more of a challenge. At least there wouldn’t be feedback.

The tradeoff for getting to practice in the performance space was that they had to be at NYADA at eight in the morning. But they were both pretty good at getting out of bed when they needed to, and shortly after eight one of the office assistants let them in, fawning over Kurt and ignoring Blaine entirely. “I bring her homemade brownies every so often,” Kurt explained. “She’s a sucker for cream cheese frosting. Goes a long way towards getting first dibs on rehearsal space.” 

Blaine took a few minutes to look around the room. It was really a beautiful space, wood paneling everywhere, no corners to twist the sound. His cane thunked softly as he walked. Music aside, he was going to have to figure out the logistics of this mess, too.

Kurt noticed him standing at the front of the room, and came up to join him. “Penny for your thoughts?”

“What am I going to do with the cane?” No point in beating around the bush, the whole goal of this exercise was to get through these problems before tomorrow night.

“Well,” Kurt looked around. “I guess it depends a little bit on what you’re singing. You said you were going to play the piano for one of the pieces, right?”

Blaine nodded.

“And for the other one, do you want to maybe stand by the piano, so you can put a hand on it if you need to? Or I can bring out a few stools and see if one of those feels right?” Kurt went through a door that Blaine could have sworn was more carefully hidden than something out of Harry Potter, and came back with two stools, one sort of bar stool height and one a bit lower. He put them in the front of the room, in the middle, and let Blaine try each of them out. The taller one felt pretty good, but he still didn’t have anywhere to put his cane except on the floor. Guess that would have to do. He tried standing next to the stool, with a hand resting on it – that worked pretty well also. But he didn’t think he could move from sitting to standing while singing, he was just too likely to fall over. 

After some further experimentation, Kurt made Blaine walk from where he’d be sitting in the audience up to the front, and then back again, until Blaine just started to feel silly. “Okay, enough practice walking. I feel like I’m rehearsing for an award ceremony instead of singing a few songs.” 

Kurt laughed. “Getting ahead of yourself a little bit, aren’t you?”

Blaine blushed. “I was thinking of high school honor society, not the Tony's, Kurt.” And definitely not high school graduation, which he had missed, stuck in the hospital. 

“Don’t know why,” Kurt teased, a fond expression on his face. “So, any chance I’m going to actually hear you sing this fine morning?”

“Yeah, I think it’s now or never.” Blaine pulled his iPod out of his pocket. “I can’t believe they’ll have a live orchestra playing for us tomorrow.”

“And they’re really good, too. Not that our glee club band wasn’t good, but…”

“I suppose we were pretty lucky to have a band for glee club, weren’t we.” 

“We were. Now stop stalling, and sing for me.”

\----------

As soon as the music began, Kurt knew he was in trouble. Whatever coffee house vibe Blaine had been going for back when he sang to Kurt in the garden, this was something entirely different. His strong, smooth tenor was captivating, and his presence, even just in rehearsal, was enchanting.

_I have often walked down this street before;_  
_But the pavement always stayed beneath my feet before._  
_All at once am I_  
_Several stories high._  
_Knowing I'm on the street where you live._

Kurt actually thought that having to stand still was adding to the strength of Blaine’s performance. He was forced to pour every bit of emotion into his voice and his eyes, not waste anything on twirls and spins.

_Are there lilac trees in the heart of town?_  
_Can you hear a lark in any other part of town?_  
_Does enchantment pour_  
_Out of ev'ry door?_  
_No, it's just on the street where you live!_

Kurt moved from the front of the auditorium to the back, watching Blaine’s eyes travel slowly across the room and lock onto his again.

_And oh! The towering feeling_  
_Just to know somehow you are near._  
_The overpowering feeling_  
_That any second you may suddenly appear!_

Blaine’s tone changed just the slightest bit for the last verse, sweeter, with almost a hint of a tremble. Kurt was so mesmerized he didn’t notice someone else come into the room.

_People stop and stare. They don't bother me._  
_For there's no where else on earth that I would rather be._  
_Let the time go by, I won't care if I_  
_Can be here on the street where you live._

“Bravo, bravo, Blaine! That was amazing!” Rachel was racing up the center of the room towards Blaine, catching him in a big hug that almost knocked him right over. “You have clearly been hard at work while I was away. Once a worthy duet partner, always a worthy duet partner. Bravo!”

Kurt came up next to Blaine, waiting for Rachel to wind down and let go. Blaine turned to Kurt, eyes wide and face so open and earnest it almost broke him apart. “What did you think?”

Kurt wrapped his arms around Blaine’s shoulders and whispered in his ear. “Sweetheart, you were fabulous. You have nothing to worry about. Nothing.” Blaine nodded, and Kurt felt him let out a long breath. Blaine had to know he could do this. Kurt pulled back and rubbed his hands up and down Blaine’s arms, smiling broadly at him. “All right, that’s one’s acceptable.”

“No notes?”

“No notes.”

“I’ve got one,” Rachel piped up. Shit, Kurt thought, he was perfect. Don’t wreck his confidence.

“Okay, tell me.” Blaine picked up his cane and leaned on it, shoulders tight, as if he was waiting for a blow.

Rachel giggled. “Be sure to let it be known that you’re taken, otherwise every guy and girl in this room is going to want your number.”

Blaine blushed, and Kurt just groaned. “What are you doing here anyway, Rachel?”

“I had to stop by and fill out some paperwork.” Rachel spun a bit at the front of the room, then taking a little bow. “And Sam mentioned that you had reserved this room, so I thought I’d stop by….”

“Rachel, this is Blaine’s time,” Kurt chided. Not that he’d mind hearing Rachel sing, but not necessarily right now.

“No, it’s fine, Kurt.” Blaine turned to Rachel and smiled. “I’m glad you’re here, that’s one more person that I won’t have to be nervous singing in front of tomorrow.”

“See?” Rachel raised her eyebrows at Kurt. “Always the gentleman.”

“How about we stop wasting time and let Blaine rehearse his second piece?” Kurt suggested, dragging Rachel away to a seat in the middle of the room. “You sit here and see how he projects.” 

Blaine sat down at the piano and closed his eyes, focusing. He began the piano introduction, and Kurt chuckled at his selection. It was “Somewhere That’s Green,” from _Little Shop of Horrors._ But as soon as Blaine started singing, Kurt fell in love just a little bit more.

_A matchbox of our own_  
_A fence of real chain link_  
_A grill out on the patio_  
_Disposal in the sink_  
_A washer and a dryer and an ironing machine_  
_In a tract house that we share_  
_Somewhere that's green._

Blaine was singing gently, slowed down, as if each word was being shaped on his lips for the first time right at that moment. It gave a whole new definition to the term lyrical.

_She rakes and trims the grass_  
_I love to mow and weed_  
_She cooks like Betty Crocker_  
_And she looks like Donna Reed_  
_There's plastic on the furniture_  
_To keep it neat and clean_  
_In the Pine-Sol scented air_  
_Somewhere that's green._

The description of the 1950’s vision of paradise was soothing, a fantasy of a poor, trapped city kid. Kurt was enthralled. It could be him Blaine was singing to, of course. A place of their own, somewhere that was fresh and clean, not tainted with the small minds of Ohio. That had been their dream, back in high school. 

_Between our frozen dinner_  
_And our bedtime, nine-fifteen_  
_We snuggle watching Lucy_  
_On our big, enormous twelve-inch screen._

Blaine filled the words with longing, singing tenderly and sweetly, purposely giving more color and texture to his voice than when he sang “On The Street.” 

_She’s my December Bride_  
_I’m Father, I know best_  
_Our kids watch Howdy Doody_  
_As the sun sets in the west_  
_A picture out of Better Homes and Gardens magazine_  
_Far from Skid Row_  
_I dream we'll go_  
_Somewhere that's green._

Kurt barely let Blaine finish the piano accompaniment before he was next to him on the piano bench, kissing him soundly. Finally he pulled back, a little embarrassed at his own reaction. 

Blaine was blinking and beaming, ignoring Rachel as she joined them by the piano, wiping her eyes. “Mandy Patinkin would be proud, Blaine. That was beautiful.”

Kurt had to force himself to drag his eyes away from Blaine’s, which were gazing at him sweetly, and turn his attention to Rachel. “Oh, is that where I heard those lyrics before?” Kurt asked.

“He changed the genders around when he recorded it.” Blaine bit his lip. “You don’t think it’s wrong to do his version, though?”

Kurt and Rachel both shook their heads. “There was nothing wrong with that performance.” Kurt assured him. “The things you can do with your voice, Blaine. The tone –“

“And so emotional,” Rachel interrupted. “Almost delicate, but very determined. There’s not going to be a dry eye in the house.” She leaned over and stretched to pull both Kurt and Blaine into a hug, squishing them together on the bench. “I’m so happy I’m coming back to New York,” she squealed. “We’re all going to have so much fun together!”

\----------

Several hours later, Blaine met Sam at their favorite burrito place. They squeezed into a tiny corner booth, Blaine’s backpack and cane shoved under the table, elbows knocking into each other as they unwrapped their selections. 

“So, you excited about tomorrow?” Sam asked as he maneuvered the end of his burrito into a plastic cup of sour cream.

“Yeah, I actually am.” Blaine gave up on eating the burrito with his hands and picked up the knife and fork he had convinced the kid behind the counter to give him. “Kurt and Rachel seem to think I’ll do okay.”

“I don’t think so,” Sam said, his eyes teasing. He waited a beat for Blaine to raise his eyebrows at him questioningly. “I think you’re going to be awesome!” Sam wiped his hand on his shorts and pulled out his phone. “Look at this text from Rachel: We better hang on tight to Blaine or someone’s going to snap him up.”

“What does that even mean?” Blaine asked, smiling at Sam’s enthusiasm. “She really does know that Kurt and I are together, right? I’m not exactly looking to be snapped up.”

Sam shrugged. “Guess she’s just possessive.” He bumped his shoulder against Blaine’s. “Better get in line.” Even though Sam hadn’t seen Blaine sing this morning, he was damn proud of him. He knew how hard it had been for him to get to this point. The first few times they performed together at open mic nights, Blaine was so nervous Sam thought he might pass out, or throw up. But it had gotten easier, and Blaine had been letting himself enjoy it more, Sam could tell. Especially after he got into Carmen Tibideaux’s audition-only extension school class. It was as if he needed that bit of outside affirmation to reassure him that he was good enough. Having Kurt praise him, though, that was like winning an Olympic gold medal.

“So, I wanted to talk to you about something,” Blaine said tentatively, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand.

“What’s up?”

Blaine’s eyes darted back and forth. “Um, thanks for having me meet your new therapist yesterday. He seemed nice…”

Sam almost laughed at Blaine’s attempt to casually bring up the subject. Sometimes he was just too damn polite for his own good. “I’m sorry you liked him. You’ll never see him again.”

“Why not?” Blaine looked worried now.

“Because he’s a giant asswipe, and I’m never seeing him again?”

“Really?” Blaine breathed out.

“Really. I called Betsy yesterday afternoon, and she’s going to talk to the coordinator at NYU and find someone else. There’s no point in spilling my guts to someone if he’s not interested in helping me, right?”

“Right.” Blaine was playing with a paper napkin, folding it into tinier and tinier pieces. “I admit I’m relieved. I got a weird vibe from him, and I was afraid, I don’t know, he just didn’t seem like a good match for you.”

“I’m not sure how he’d be a good match for anybody.” Sam poked Blaine again, getting his attention. “You were going to tell me how you felt about him, right? You weren’t going to stick with being polite?”

“No, I was going to get around to it. That’s kind of why I wanted to have lunch just the two of us, so we could talk about it.”

“You were really worried, weren’t you?”

Blaine shrugged.

“No useless homophobic jerk is going to change how I feel about you, okay?” Sam lowered his voice, but kept his eyes right on Blaine’s. “You know how much you mean to me. I may not completely understand why we work so well together, but I don’t have to understand it to know it’s a good thing. No one’s going to tell me otherwise.” He held up his hand, and Blaine complied, high fiving him back. “Blam!”

“Thanks, Sam. I guess I’m just on edge, thinking about the surgery.” He groaned. “And my parents are coming Thursday afternoon. We have to clean the apartment…”

“Oh, I meant to tell you. Your mom called me this morning.”

“She called you?”

“Yup. She said she called you a few times but you haven’t called back.”

“That’s possible.” Blaine was suddenly fascinated by his cane, apparently trying to get it to hang off the side of the table. “What did you tell her?”

“What, you think I’m going to tell her you’re too busy having sexy times with Kurt to return her call?”

“That is _not_ why I haven’t called her,” Blaine said, frowning.

“Hey, dude, I know.” Sam popped the last bit of his burrito into his mouth and licked a drip of sour cream off a finger. “We actually had a nice talk.”

“You did?” Blaine looked surprised.

“Yeah. I mean, she was talking about getting here on Thursday, and I mentioned that Rachel would still be here, so the apartment would be pretty crowded.” Sam glanced at Blaine out of the corner of his eye, seeing his mouth drop open. “And you know what she said?”

Blaine shook his head.

“She asked if it she and your dad should stay in a hotel.”

“She always says that, but they never do,” Blaine said, grimacing.

“They are this time.”

“What?”

“When your mom asked if they should stay in a hotel, I said yes.” Sam tried not to smirk, but he was pretty proud of himself. Blaine could never manage to pull this one off, and he knew how he was dreading having his parents fuss over him.

“Are you kidding me?” Blaine’s face was almost comical. “Wait, Rachel’s going home tomorrow.”

“No, she’s not. She’ll be here through Sunday, or maybe Monday.”

“The exact same time my parents will be here?”

“Hmm, funny, right? That’s why they can’t stay at our place. Just too crowded.” Sam grinned.

Blaine launched himself at Sam, pulling him into a tight hug and nearly knocking his soda over. “Thank you, Sam. You really are amazing.” 

Sam hugged him back, squeezing until Blaine yelped. “It’s okay, man, I know you want it to be different this time. And it’s going to be.” Blaine had told Sam how worried he was about the surgery, and how afraid he was of feeling like he did two years ago. Sam totally understood – anything that reminded him of before was to be avoided. Sam had tried to reassure him, talking about about how it would be different this time – a new hospital in a new city, a much shorter, simpler operation, a supposedly quick recovery time. Blaine had flat out told Sam that thinking about having his parents hover over him, worried and concerned, just aggravated his anxiety, and reminded him of last time. So Sam thought he’d do what he could to help out with that particular problem. Blaine’s mom had walked right into his trap.

Blaine sat back down and looked appraisingly at Sam. “You know what this means, Sam.”

“What?”

“You’re going to be stuck dragging my sorry ass around again.”

“I think I figured that out. I don’t mind helping you, you know that. As long as you promise not to go all super-sad on me, okay?”

Blaine nodded, lips tight. “I really don’t want that to happen again.”

“I know.” Sam put a hand on Blaine’s shoulder. “You’re going to be okay. Plus, you won’t have anywhere to hide out this time.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, as soon as you come home – Saturday or Sunday, probably, right? – you’ll have to deal with me, and Rachel, and Kurt. No room for super-sadness.”

“Clearly if you had shown up in Lima sooner, I would have been in better shape.” 

“Don’t joke around, dude, I’m good at this.” Sam smiled. 

“Good at what?”

“The care and keeping of Blaine. I know all of his secrets, and exactly how to make him laugh.” Sam moved his hand to Blaine’s side, and wiggled his fingers.

“Do not tickle me now, Sam Evans,” Blaine said, already failing at keeping a straight face. He giggled as Sam poked him. “Honestly, I just ate a burrito as big as my head, it’s not a good idea.”

“All right.” Sam relented. “One more thing,” Sam said, grabbing Blaine’s cane and twirling it between his hands like he was trying to start a fire, as he thought about how to say this. “I really do think you’re going to be fine. You’re in a totally different place now than two years ago. No recent fatalities, no brand new life changing injuries.” Blaine smiled sadly at him. “But listen,” Sam poked him in the chest with the handle of his cane, “if you do get sad again, that’s okay too. I’ll still be here. We’ll get through it. No matter what.”

Blaine gave Sam his most earnest look, the one that generally just melted Sam’s insides, Blaine’s eyes all wide and sincere, but he didn’t say anything. After a minute Sam started to squirm. “What? Did I get salsa on my face or something?”

Blaine smiled, tilting his head at Sam, and reached out to straighten the collar of his plaid shirt, a favorite habit of his when he was feeling affectionate. “Nope. No salsa.”

“Then what?”

“You’ll laugh.”

“Probably, but tell me anyway.”

“I just really wanted to kiss you.” Blaine grinned. “What the hell.” He leaned over, took Sam’s face in his hands, and gave him a big smacking kiss on the cheek. When he bounced back into his seat he was blushing furiously, and smiling even harder. 

Sam laughed, glad that he could lighten Blaine’s heart the way Blaine always did for him. He held up his hand again, and Blaine met it with his own. “Blam!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For Blaine’s second piece, I pictured Mandy Patinkin’s version of “Somewhere That’s Green” from his album _Experiment._ Unfortunately I couldn’t find a you tube link for it, but listen to it if you can, it’s beautiful. The first is, of course, “On the Street Where You Live” from _My Fair Lady,_ a great Broadway love song.
> 
> Please comment!


	25. Chapter 25

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> AU after 5x02. When the New Directions’ bus crashes before Nationals, Finn is killed and Blaine is badly injured. Grieving and damaged, Kurt and Blaine call off their engagement. Two years after the tragedy, they run into each other in New York City. Klaine; Blam friendship.
> 
> Warnings for past character death (Finn), discussion of depression, injuries.

Although Blaine was practically shaking with anxiety beforehand, once he took the stage in the round room and began to sing “On The Street Where You Live” everything fell into place. The orchestra swelled at all the right moments, his voice didn’t misbehave, and with each phrase, he relaxed a little bit more. Through it all, he could see people he cared about rooting for him – Kurt, Sam, and even Rachel, cozying up to a tall, handsome guy he didn’t recognize. A few of his NYU friends that were around for the summer were there too, and Kurt’s classmates Cora and Nate. There were six students performing, including one other person from the extension school class; the others were all regular NYADA students. Blaine had opened the show with “On The Street,” and although he managed to find his seat afterwards without tumbling over, he didn’t really notice much about the performance of the person who followed him, too busy being relieved that he made it through himself. And it wasn’t long before he had to worry about his second song. “Somewhere That’s Green” turned out to be even easier, though, since he was accompanying himself on the piano. As soon as his hands touched the keys, he knew it was going to go well. He even felt for a moment like his old self, like he was in complete control of the music coming from his fingers and his throat, like he could bend it and shape it and make it fly out into the hearts of the people listening. From the applause of the audience when he finished, and Carmen Tibideaux’s approving smile and nod, he knew that he had done well.

And if he had any doubt, Kurt’s crushing hug and beaming smile put it to rest. “I’m so proud to be with you,” he whispered in Blaine’s ear. “Now more than ever.” Blaine flushed with happiness as Kurt introduced him to some of the NYADA professors and students that were in attendance, keeping a possessive hand on his arm all the while.

“Handsome and super-talented, too,” Cora came up and smiled at him. “You put those upperclassmen to shame. Hope you’ll be in my musical theater workshop this year, we really need a better tenor.”

Blaine blinked, confused, and saw Kurt shaking his head at Cora, who didn’t seem to catch on. “I don’t go to NYADA, Cora,” he clarified.

“Are you serious? Why not?”

Blaine felt his face go red. What a stupid question to ask, he thought. _You don’t go to Harvard? Why not?_

Cora seemed to realize her mistake instantly, to her credit, and rushed to apologize. “I’m sorry, that was rude of me. I know it’s hard to get in. There are lots of good schools.” Not the best apology, Blaine thought, but at least she tried.

“Blaine did get in,” Kurt pointed out, directing a curious look at Blaine. “He just decided on NYU instead.”

Now it was Cora’s turn to look confused. “But why?”

Blaine needed to put an end to this conversation before it got more uncomfortable for everyone, if that were even possible. “I didn’t actually get an offer. I was in an accident -” he held up his cane “and I couldn’t make my audition. I didn’t think I’d be able to pursue performance, so I accepted at NYU.” With an effort, Blaine held Cora’s gaze, refusing to let himself feel ashamed about this anymore. He could feel Kurt squirm next to him, probably searching for something to say to dissolve the awkward silence.

Thankfully Sam chose that moment to appear. “Awesome job, dude!” Sam clapped Blaine on the back so hard he almost fell over, Kurt catching him under the arm and glaring at Sam. Sam ignored Kurt, however, and just grinned, noticing Cora giving him the once over. Blaine had actually gotten Sam to dress up a little bit tonight, and he was guessing that at this moment Sam was glad he did. He was looking particularly hot, in a nicely fitted black button down and dark jeans, a little bit of product taming his hair. “Hi. Sam Evans.” He stuck out his hand, and Cora blushed just a bit before drawing herself up to diva stance again.

“Cora Kelly.” She shook Sam’s hand appraisingly, and Blaine noticed Sam giving Cora a second look as well. She was quite pretty, with long, dark red hair and ivory skin that rivaled Kurt’s. “And how do you know these two?” she asked Sam.

“Blaine’s my best friend. We go way back,” Sam said, giving Blaine a sideways hug around the shoulders. Blaine wasn’t sure this was the best way for Sam to show Cora he might be interested, but figured he could work on that later.

Rachel joined them, kissing Blaine on both cheeks and raving about his performance. “You were wonderful, Blaine. I knew you would be.”

“Rachel, who was that guy you were with?” Sam asked, looking around.

“Oh, he’s a teaching assistant for Ms. July.”

“Another one?” Kurt asked, grimacing. Poor Rachel. Where Kurt was concerned, she was never going to be able to live down her unfortunate affair with Brody.

“Oh cut it out, Kurt. I’m not hooking up with him. I just wanted to find out who Ms. July is working with these days. It doesn’t hurt to know all of the current information.”

“You mean gossip,” Kurt chided.

“A girl has got to be prepared,” Rachel responded.

Cora was watching this exchange with fascination. “I don’t believe we’ve met,” she said, an impish smile on her face. “At the risk of putting my foot in my mouth again, you do go to NYADA, right?”

“Rachel Berry, and yes, I certainly do. I took a leave of absence but I’m returning in the fall.”

Kurt tugged on Blaine’s arm and pulled him aside before he could see how long it took for Rachel to work Funny Girl into the conversation. The exhilaration of the performance had worn off, and Blaine was leaning hard on Kurt as they found a seat near the back of the room.

“You really were fantastic,” Kurt said softly, rubbing a hand up and down his arm. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m good,” Blaine said. When he didn’t say anything else, Kurt tilted his head at him questioningly.

“That’s it?”

Blaine smiled. “Overwhelmed, and good?”

Kurt smiled back and leaned in for a quick kiss. “No time for that,” Rachel interrupted. “We’re going to karaoke. Come on!”

Kurt gave his arm a squeeze. “What do you think? You up for karaoke with a bunch of divas?”

On the one hand, Blaine really wished he could just go home with Kurt, snuggle together under his soft comforter, and forget everything else. But on the other, Kurt seemed interested in going out, and from what he had gathered, this was a pretty rare occurrence for Kurt. And maybe he’d get to hear Kurt sing. That thought was enough to make his decision for him. “I think I’m done singing for tonight. But I’d love to hear you guys.”

“I don’t think that will be a problem,” Cora announced confidently.

“Rachel, I think she stole your line,” Sam crowed, bumping his shoulder against Rachel’s. “Man, these NYADA kids sure are spotlight hogs.”

“Is this really a surprise?” Kurt said dryly, pulling Blaine to his feet. “All right. We’re taking a cab. Anyone want to join us?”

\----------

The karaoke bar favored by this group of NYADA students had a live piano player and an impressive song selection book. Blaine and Sam claimed a booth while Rachel and Kurt headed to the front to put their names on the list, Cora following close behind. “Don’t you want to sing, Sam?” Blaine asked him.

“Maybe later.” Sam was fidgeting, drumming his fingers on the table.

“She’s cute,” Blaine said, poking Sam with his foot. “Go look at the karaoke book with her.”

Sam gave Blaine an irritated look, then shook his head and smiled at Blaine. “Can’t hurt, I guess.” He got up and headed over to Cora, apparently taking Blaine’s advice.

Kurt appeared a few minutes later, two glasses of water in his hands, and slid into the booth next to Blaine. “Tonight calls for something more festive, but I wasn’t sure you’d be up for it,” he said, indicating the water.

“No, this is perfect.” Blaine gratefully drank down half his glass at once. Then he put an arm around Kurt, pulling him against his side, and whispered in his ear, Kurt’s hair tickling his nose. “I can’t wait to hear you sing.”

Kurt snuggled against him, closing his eyes for a moment. “Mmm. Patience. I think Rachel and Cora are signed up ahead of me. This could be a historic night.”

“Oh?” Blaine found Kurt’s hand and tangled their fingers together, resting them gently on Kurt’s lean stomach.

“I always imagined what might happen if Rachel and Cora met. Like when two molecules come into contact and explode. Something science-y and dangerous.”

“I’m not even going to try to put that into grown-up terms, but I know what you mean. Cora does seem unlikely to let a challenge go unanswered.”

“Exactly,” Kurt agreed.

Cora and Rachel both picked up microphones and nodded at the piano player. “Well, at least Rachel will stop squawking about making me her duet partner,” Blaine commented.

“You don’t want to sing with her?” Kurt asked blandly.

“Not my first priority,” Blaine answered, leaning his head against Kurt’s.

As Cora and Rachel did an energetic performance of “Hit Me With Your Best Shot,” Kurt squirmed against Blaine. “This song will forever make me think of dodgeball,” he groaned. “Weird choice for Rachel, maybe she just erased that fiasco from her memory.”

“Yeah, not our best day.” The girls finished singing and Blaine saw Sam up front, bouncing up to give them each a hug. “You think you can casually mention to Cora that Sam’s straight?”

“I think Sam’s got it under control,” Kurt said, smiling, as Sam steered Cora off to the bar. “She doesn’t know you guys well enough to be confused by the Blam of it all.”

Rachel arrived, flushed with excitement over her performance. “That went well, I think, don’t you? I had wanted to do something a little more emotional, but the night’s still young. Cora was clearly eager to perform with me, and I didn’t want to disappoint her.”

Rachel continued musing about her next song choice while the next few people performed – a painful rendition of “I Cain’t Say No,” by two girls who had clearly not said no to their last few drinks, and a surprisingly entertaining performance of “Last Friday Night” which had Blaine bouncing in his seat.

“Your performance was better,” Kurt said, giving Blaine a quick kiss and sitting up. “I think I’m next. Wish me luck?” With a sly smile, he slid out of the booth and made his way to the front.

Sam joined them, trying to say something to Blaine, but Rachel interrupted. “Shush, Kurt’s going now.” Rachel gave Sam a look, and he pulled Blaine out of the booth, taking the inside seat for himself.

“Sam?” Blaine didn’t really care which seat he sat in, but he was confused.

“Figured you’d want to be able to see this.” Sam smiled and leaned into the corner, poking Blaine with the tip of his shoe until he turned around and looked at Kurt.

Kurt was talking with the piano player, gesturing with his hands as he explained something, and then, apparently satisfied, picked up the mic. “This song is for someone special.”

Oh. So that’s what Sam was talking about.

Rachel and Sam catcalled, as did a few other audience members, but Kurt ignored them all. He turned to Cora, who was sitting over by the bar with Nate. “About a month ago, a friend of mine asked this person how he managed to get me to forget my lost love. But what she didn’t know is that he _is_ my lost love.” Kurt paused and met Blaine’s eyes, his own sparkling under the lights. “And I can’t believe how lucky I am that we’ve found each other again.” Kurt smiled at Blaine, then turned to the audience and continued. “He’s been singing me love songs for years, but tonight it’s my turn.”

Kurt began singing, without any accompaniment, just his clear voice in the sudden quiet of the room.

_Baby, I'm amazed at the way you love me all the time,_  
 _And maybe I'm afraid of the way I love you._

Blaine felt his eyes tearing up, and Kurt had barely started singing. Kurt knew he loved him, and Kurt loved him back. And he was serenading him here, declaring his love for him in front of everyone.

_Maybe I'm amazed at the way you pulled me out of time,_  
 _You hung me on the line._  
 _Maybe I'm amazed at the way I really need you._

After just these few lines, Kurt paused, letting the last note fade away. Blaine froze, hoping no one could hear his heart pounding in the silence. Then the piano began a happy, familiar tune. Soon Kurt was beaming, and he jumped right in on cue.

_Whenever I see your smiling face, I have to smile myself, because I love you, yes, I do._  
 _And when you give me that pretty little pout, it turns me inside out._  
 _There's something about you, baby, I don't know._  
 _Isn't it amazing a man like me can feel this way,_  
 _Tell me how much longer, it could grow stronger every day. Oh, how much longer?_

"He’s got you down, doesn’t he,” Sam whispered in Blaine’s ear.

_I thought I was in love a couple of times before with the boy next door,_  
 _But that was long before I met you, now I'm sure that I won't forget you._  
 _And I thank my lucky stars that you are who you are,_  
 _And not just another lovely fellow set out to break my heart._

_Isn't it amazing a man like me can feel this way,_  
 _Tell me how much longer, it could grow stronger every day._

Blaine was smiling so hard he thought his face was going to burst. Before he knew it, Kurt had finished singing the last _no one can tell me that I’m doing wrong today,_ took a quick bow, and sashayed proudly back to their booth. Blaine was up and wrapped around him before he could stop himself. “I love you so much,” he breathed out, lacing his fingers into Kurt’s hair.

"I love you too,” Kurt whispered back, squeezing him tightly. “I’ve wanted to say it so many times, I hope this was okay.”

"Definitely okay.” Blaine pulled Kurt down into the booth and kissed him, hard and fast. “I love you.”

“You said that already.”

"Too bad.”

Sam cleared his throat, and Blaine realized they had pretty much trapped him there against the wall. “Not that I mind the close quarters, but I think I’m actually up soon,” he said, smiling broadly. They scrambled to let Sam get out, then settled back down, Blaine letting out a groan as he did so.

"You okay?” Kurt looked concerned.

Blaine shrugged. “My leg hurts.”

“You’re tired, too,” Kurt said, looking appraisingly at Blaine.

"I am.” He really was, but he wasn’t ready for this night to be over. “But Sam hasn’t sung yet. And I don’t want to go home."

“No? Why not?”

"I don’t want it to be tomorrow. My parents are going to be here, then the next day’s the surgery… just, you know, yuck."

Kurt took Blaine’s hand and gave it a squeeze. “What’s the plan with your parents?”

Blaine couldn’t help rolling his eyes. “Their flight gets in around ten. They’re going with me to see my doctor, and then I guess just come back to my apartment and drive me crazy for a while. Thankfully they’re staying at a hotel, but I’m sure they’ll show up bright and early on Friday to take me to the hospital.”

"Are you all going out to dinner tomorrow?”

"I’m not supposed to eat at night, so probably not. Maybe a late lunch?” Blaine sighed. “But in a few days it will all be over. Do you have anything to do on Sunday? I should be home by then, maybe you can come over and say hi? They’ll be glad to see you.”

Kurt put a hand to Blaine’s face, and gave him a sweet, lingering kiss. Blaine closed his eyes, wanting to lose himself the feeling of Kurt’s soft lips against his. But Kurt broke off the kiss all too soon. “I have a different idea.”

Blaine opened his eyes, curious. “Oh?”

"Well, we could go with your plan, and leave you to the ministrations of your well meaning but somewhat suffocating parents. Or, we could do it my way.”

“What’s that, exactly?” Blaine smiled; Kurt’s tone was infectious and he knew something good was coming.

“Tomorrow night, text me when they leave for their hotel. I’ll come over, and together Sam and I will keep you from freaking out. We’ll cuddle you all night if we have to.”

“I hate to be a burden,” Blaine said, smirking.

"I know, dear, I know.” Kurt smiled and went on. “Tell your parents we’ll meet them at the hospital, and I’ll go over with you in the morning.”

“I like your plan,” Blaine admitted. “Especially the cuddling part. But you really don’t need to be at the hospital with me. I’ll be fine.”

“You really think I’m going to let you do this by yourself?”

“I won’t be by myself,” Blaine explained. “Sam will be there, and my parents. I’ll be okay.”

“Do you not want me there?” For the first time tonight, Kurt looked uncertain. Shit, that was not at all what he wanted.

“No, I mean I do, but…” Blaine took a deep breath, and grabbed Kurt’s hand, holding it tightly. “Listen. It means the world to me that you are willing to go through this with me. And truth be told, I would love to have you there. But I’m scared, too. I’m scared to let myself need you like that again.” He gazed at Kurt, searching his eyes. “And, you know, my hair gets all crazy when I’m stuck in bed. It’s not pretty.”

Kurt relaxed. “I won’t take pictures, I promise.” He looked down at where their hands were joined, Blaine rubbing circles into his palm with his thumb. “So, does this mean I can accompany you to the hospital?”

“Yes. But don’t start singing Camelot, or my parents will never stop.” Blaine leaned back against the corner of the booth and pulled Kurt up against him, singing softly, ”Then you may take me to the fair, if you do all the things you promise. In fact, my heart would break should you not take me to the fair….”

Blaine was almost about to doze off, there in the noisy bar with Kurt warm and heavy up against him, when Sam finally took the stage. He forced himself to open his eyes and pay attention, and smiled when Sam began to sing.

_What would you think if I sang out of tune_  
 _Would you stand up and walk out on me?_  
 _Lend me your ears and I'll sing you a song_  
 _And I'll try not to sing out of key._  
 _Oh I get by with a little help from my friends_  
 _Mm I get high with a little help from my friends_  
 _Mm going to try with a little help from my friends._

Leave it to Sam to pick the perfect anthem for the night. Maybe even for the summer. Surgery or not, Blaine’s life was pretty damn good these days, he thought. Now, if he could just make it home without falling asleep…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> End notes: As promised, Blaine sings “On The Street Where You Live” from _My Fair Lady,_ and “Somewhere That’s Green” from _Little Shop of Horrors._ At karaoke, Kurt sings the beginning of “Maybe I’m Amazed” by Paul McCartney, and “Your Smiling Face” by James Taylor. Blaine also sings a little bit of “Then You May Take Me To The Fair” from _Camelot_ (which, as it turns out, is his parents’ favorite musical). Finally, Sam sings “With a Little Help From My Friends” by John Lennon and Paul McCartney.


	26. Chapter 26

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> AU after 5x02. When the New Directions’ bus crashes before Nationals, Finn is killed and Blaine is badly injured. Grieving and damaged, Kurt and Blaine call off their engagement. Two years after the tragedy, they run into each other in New York City. Klaine; Blam friendship.
> 
> Warnings for past character death (Finn), discussion of depression, injuries.

**From Blaine: My parents have left the building.**

**From Kurt: See you soon.**

Kurt gathered up his gym bag and headed over to Blaine’s. He was relieved that he didn’t have to face Blaine’s parents until tomorrow. The last time he had spoken with them had been when he and Blaine had called off the engagement. Although Blaine said they knew about them getting back together, and were happy for them, Kurt had trouble believing it. In the end, though, they always seemed to be willing to do whatever was needed to make Blaine happy (including letting him transfer to McKinley, which in retrospect seemed like a ridiculous thing for his parents to agree to), so hopefully if they were convinced that Kurt made Blaine happy, they’d give him another chance. 

Kurt had found himself wondering more than once how things would have been different if Blaine hadn’t come to McKinley. They still could have seen each other after school and on weekends, and then maybe Blaine would have held on to his Dalton friendships, and not felt so alone when Kurt moved to New York. Of course, there was that whole mess with Hunter and the Warblers on steroids, but maybe if Blaine had stayed, Dalton wouldn’t have recruited Hunter. And if Blaine was never in the New Directions, he wouldn’t have been in the bus crash. Then again, if he hadn’t transferred to McKinley, maybe the Warblers would have beat the New Directions fairly, and they would have been the ones going to the invitational, not the New Directions, and none of them would have been in the bus crash. Unless the Warblers’ bus crashed….

Kurt shook his head as a bicycle whizzed past him, startling him out of his reverie. There was no changing the past. Blaine had been in the crash, he did get injured, and he still wasn’t healed – that’s why he had to have surgery tomorrow. Any other issues would have to wait. Tonight was for Blaine.

Kurt took the elevator up to the third floor and let himself in, immediately spying Sam’s blond head poking up over the top of the couch. He toed off his shoes and came into the living room. Blaine was curled up against Sam, fast asleep, his curls sticking every which way. 

“Hey, Kurt,” Sam said softly. He was scrolling on his phone with one hand, the television showing yet another episode of _Friends_ softly in the background. He nodded towards Blaine. “Sorry about this. The doctor gave him something to relax him tonight, and I think it kind of knocked him out.”

“Medicine tends to do that to him.” At least Sam wasn’t going to accost Blaine with vaporub. Kurt had never really figured that one out; apparently Blaine had forgiven Tina, so he let it go, too, but it still made him squirm to think about it.

Sam went to get up, but Kurt waved him back. “Don’t move, he looks so comfortable.” Kurt looked around. “Do you need anything?” Sam shook his head. “I’ll check to see if he’s packed yet.” Kurt wandered into Blaine’s room, finding a neatly organized overnight bag on his desk. He also noticed that the piles of books on the wheelchair had been relocated. Kurt knew how reluctant Blaine was to go back to using the chair, but hopefully it wouldn’t be for long.

Kurt went into the kitchen and poured two glasses of juice, bringing one over to Sam. “Thanks, dude.” 

He sat down in the armchair next to the couch and stretched his feet out on the ottoman. “Everything go okay today with Blaine’s parents?”

“Yeah. I think Bill and Tammy got the message. They really tried to give Blaine some space, you know, not take over everything. Let him take the lead at the meeting with the doctor. Blaine was feeling pretty good about it, I think.”

“Nice work getting them to stay at a hotel.”

Sam smiled. “Blaine’s too polite to ever take them up on that offer. But luckily for him, I’m not. Anyway, I think they understood. They really are good people.”

“They are,” Kurt agreed. He noticed that Sam and Blaine had on matching gray t-shirts with “I heart NY” on them. “I assume they are responsible for your new shirts?”

“Yup.” Blaine stirred, and Sam looked at Blaine fondly, stroking his fingers through Blaine’s messy curls to calm him. As Blaine settled back down, Sam looked up to find Kurt watching him, and grimaced. “Shit, I’m sorry.”

“You’re not doing anything wrong, Sam.”

“How can you be okay with this?” Sam asked, his voice small.

Kurt pulled his legs up under him, and considered Sam’s question. “You really want to know?”

Sam nodded.

“First off, as far as right this minute goes, Blaine’s nervous. You comfort him. He trusts you. I’d be a horrible person to deny him anything right now that could make him feel better.” 

“He trusts you, too,” Sam said.

“Not in the same way. I mean, I hope we’ll get there, but we’re not there yet.” Kurt remembered what Blaine had said yesterday about Kurt coming to the hospital with him. Blaine was scared to rely on Kurt. Kurt thought that Blaine was really trying not to be, but there was still some hesitation there. He didn’t blame him. “The last time something bad happened to Blaine, I couldn’t handle it.”

“But that wasn’t your fault-“

“It doesn’t matter, it’s in the past now anyway. But it still happened. All I can do is show him, this time, that I can be there for him, and that we’re going to be okay.”

“You will. You both will,” Sam said confidently.

“I think so, too.” Kurt paused, and pulled the throw blanket from off the back of the chair and onto his lap. He drew his knees up against his chest and tucked the blanket around his legs. He wondered if Sam was interested in this part. “There’s more to it, though.”

“What do you mean?”

“There shouldn’t be any reason why two guys can’t touch each other like you guys do, gay or straight. Girls who are friends do that all the time. But you know as well as I do that that’s kind of the minority opinion.”

Sam looked down at where his hand rested on Blaine’s waist. “I know, it’s weird.”

“But it shouldn’t be.” Kurt huffed, not sure how to get his point across to Sam without doing more harm than good. “You know, in high school, even before I came out, no one touched me. The guys, especially, kept their distance. It only got worse when they knew I was gay. Even the normal things boys were allowed to do with each other, I was denied. No one ever gave me a friendly pat on the back, god forbid a slap on the ass. Instead I just got shoved into lockers.” Kurt looked at Sam, catching his eye. “Because they didn’t want to catch the gay.” 

“Kurt…”

“You were never part of the problem, Sam, you know that. And by the time you and I started to get to know each other better, I had Blaine.” Kurt smiled, remembering. “You know how during the proposal, Blaine said that he took my hand a moment after we met? It’s really true. Blaine touched me right away. It was such a change.” It had felt so good, having someone to be physical with, just to bump shoulders against in the choir room, occasionally hold hands with in the hall, not to mention what they did together when they were alone. But it had still been just the two of them, in their own little bubble of safety and touch. How was Sam so different?

“You’re not afraid to touch Blaine, Sam. Even though he’s gay.”

“No, of course not.” Sam sounded almost offended. “Why would I be afraid to touch him? He likes it and I like it, that should be all that matters.”

Kurt could practically hear Blaine saying the same words. “I couldn’t agree more, Sam. But a lot of men wouldn’t want to be so physically affectionate with another guy. They wouldn’t want people to get the wrong idea about the two of you.”

“Why would I mind if people thought Blaine and I were together? I’d be proud to have him as my boyfriend,” Sam said, a little wistfully.

“As well you should be. But it’s not really in the cards, is it?” Kurt said hesitantly. He didn’t think so, but he wouldn’t mind hearing it from Sam. As much as he wanted to be okay with the two of them cuddling their hearts out, a tiny piece of him was just a little bit worried, sometimes.

“No, it’s not.” Sam frowned, but then got a mischievous look on his face. “I did kiss him, once. A real kiss.”

“Oh?” Now there was a story he’d like to hear, Kurt thought, willing himself not to think about it too hard. Sam did have awfully nice lips.

“It was a good kiss,” Blaine mumbled into Sam’s chest.

“Oh, so sleeping beauty awakes?” Kurt laughed. He moved over to the couch, on Blaine’s other side. “How much of that did you hear?”

“Mmm. The proposal was true. Cuddling is good. Sam is awesome and so are you.” Blaine blindly reached out for Kurt, then turned over and gave him a sleepy hug. “Hi.”

“Hi yourself.” Kurt held him gently, stroking his back. Blaine was warm and relaxed, nuzzling into his neck. “So am I going to hear about this kiss, or will I just be left to my imagination?” 

Sam pulled his arm out from under Blaine and stretched, then folded his hands behind his head and leaned back. “There’s not that much to tell. It was last winter, during a snow storm.” Kurt internally breathed a sigh of relief. At least it wasn’t too recent. “We made this huge fire, and we were just hanging out. I was tired of wondering, so Blaine took pity on me.” Kurt pushed his flicker of jealousy aside to marvel at how calm Sam was about the whole thing. As if he wished he could have made it work with Blaine, not that he was disgusted at himself for even considering it. Which, of course, being Sam, he never would be.

“Wasn’t pity, dummy. You’re hot.” Blaine yawned and then snuggled back down on Kurt’s chest. “I’m tired.”

“I know, sweetie. Want to go to bed?” Kurt asked.

Blaine nodded. “Bed. Good.” They roused Blaine enough for him to brush his teeth and put his pajamas on, while Kurt and Sam did the same. Kurt set two different alarms for way too early in the morning, knowing it was not going to be a pleasant moment when Blaine woke up, happy pills having worn off. Finally everyone was ready. Kurt slid under the covers, pulling Blaine after him. Blaine closed his eyes, sighing, then opened them back up. “Wait.” He sat up. “Sam, where are you going?”

“Um, I think Rachel’s taking my bed tonight, so, the couch?” 

“No way. I was promised a Sam and Kurt sandwich. So I won’t be too anxious about the surgery tomorrow.”

“You don’t seem particularly anxious to me,” Sam laughed, still standing in the doorway. “And I don’t remember any such promise.”

“Kurt promised.”

Kurt shrugged. “I’m not sure those were my exact words, but it was kind of the gist.” 

Sam grinned and joined them in the bed. They shifted a bit until everyone was more or less comfortable, Blaine’s head on Kurt’s chest, and Sam curled up behind Blaine, a hand on his shoulder. Kurt wondered what his pre-Blaine high school self would have thought about this scenario, back when he just wanted to get through the day without being thrown in a dumpster. Was it weird that it seemed almost normal now? Kurt lay still for a while, not really sleepy, listening to Blaine’s soft breaths and Sam’s slight snore. He squirmed a little bit, wanting to turn over but not willing to disturb Blaine. Anyway, he was pretty close to the edge of the bed. If this was going to be a regular thing, he thought to himself, Blaine might need to consider investing in a king sized bed. Maybe wait until his parents go home for that particular purchase. “Gee, mom, you know what would really make me happy? A bed big enough for me to sleep in with Kurt **and** Sam.” Even the Andersons’ tendency to spoil Blaine had to have a limit, right?

Maybe not. Not the bed thing, but the Sam thing. Bill and Tammy had clearly spent a lot of time with Sam, and had to be pretty familiar with the whole Blam concept. Kurt sighed. He was nervous about tomorrow. What if the Andersons were perfectly content with Sam as Blaine’s bestie, and not very interested in Kurt coming back into the picture? And although he was trying not to think about it, he couldn’t help but be worried about Blaine’s surgery. He had tried not to focus on it, figuring it wouldn’t help to get worked up, but he hated the thought of Blaine hurting, and the million things that might (probably wouldn’t, almost definitely wouldn’t) go wrong. 

Kurt’s eyes flicked open as the light coming in through the door expanded, and he saw Rachel standing there, looking fondly at them. “Cuddle pile?” she asked softly. Kurt felt a wash of affection for Rachel, as she immediately recognized what was going on for what it was, not some kind of crazy sex party, as she had previously teased them about. “Wish there was room for me,” she said, smiling gently at Kurt. See, we need a bigger bed, he thought again.

Sam stirred and sat up. “What time is it?”

“It’s only about nine-thirty. Can you guys really fall asleep now?” Rachel peered over Sam’s shoulder, seeing Blaine still fast asleep. 

“Blaine’s definitely down for the count,” Sam said. “But if Kurt’ll stay here, I think I’ll get up for a while, maybe watch a movie or something.” Kurt nodded. He wasn’t going anywhere. Sam carefully got out of bed, and he and Rachel headed back towards the living room, Sam first closing the bedroom door until just a sliver of light remained. Kurt thought it was kind of adorable the way they never closed their bedroom doors all the way, like they always wanted to keep an ear out for each other. Sam and Blaine had a connection that he had never had with anyone. He had imagined, once upon a time, that he might have that kind of bond with Finn. Someone to go through life with, no matter what happened. But that was not to be.

With Sam gone, Kurt shoved Blaine over a little bit, giving himself some more space in the bed. Blaine blinked his eyes open, his hand coming up to trace over Kurt’s cheekbone. “Kurt. You’re so beautiful.”

That was never going to get old, and Kurt knew it was no less sincere, despite Blaine’s medicated state. How sweet it was to know how Blaine saw him. “So are you.” Kurt gave Blaine a gentle kiss, curious to see if he would wake up some more, or fall back asleep. The latter, apparently. Kurt giggled to himself. He refused to be offended that his boyfriend was too sleepy to make out with him, but Blaine was awfully cute, lying there with his lips pursed and long eyelashes fluttering.

Blaine stirred again, his tongue darting out to lick his lips. “Kurt,” he breathed out.

“Yeah, baby, I’m here.”

“I love you.” 

Kurt felt his whole body hum in response. “I love you too,” he replied, pushing Blaine’s curls back from his face, gazing into those beautiful caramel eyes. “So much.”

“You’ll be there tomorrow, right? At the hospital?” 

“I will.” Kurt stroked Blaine’s cheek as his eyes drifted closed again. “It’s okay, go to sleep.” Kurt heard the _Friends_ theme song echoing in his mind - or maybe it was just playing in the living room again – as he snuggled up against Blaine, holding him close. “I’ll be there for you,” Kurt sang softly, a promise he intended to keep.


	27. Chapter 27

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> AU after 5x02. When the New Directions’ bus crashes before Nationals, Finn is killed and Blaine is badly injured. Grieving and damaged, Kurt and Blaine call off their engagement. Two years after the tragedy, they run into each other in New York City. Klaine; Blam friendship.
> 
> Warnings for past character death (Finn), depression, injuries, hospital scenes, non-doctors discussing medical matters.

Kurt, Sam and Blaine took a cab to the hospital in the morning, all of them bleary eyed at the early hour. Kurt thought that Blaine seemed to be holding it together fairly well, although he was understandably quiet. "You okay?" Kurt asked him as they walked up to the building's entrance, Blaine grasping his arm for support rather more tightly than normal.

"Yeah," he replied, not meeting his eyes.

Sam heard this exchange, and stopped them both with a hand on Blaine's shoulder. "Hey, dude, you're going to be fine." He grabbed Blaine up into a tight hug. "This is all going to be over in a few hours, and you'll have all the ice cream you can eat."

Blaine laughed weakly, accepting Sam's firm embrace and giving him a squeeze in return. "Isn't that what you get when you have your tonsils out?" 

"I don't know, ice cream's awesome, everyone should get ice cream."

"Fair enough," Blaine said. They continued on, the mood having lightened a little bit.

Blaine's parents met them in the lobby. Kurt was struck once again by what a good looking couple they were. Tammy Anderson was about Blaine's height, with a well-shaped bob of dark, straight hair. She was as preppy as the day was long, decked out today in a pastel madras plaid skirt and a lime green sleeveless top with a matching sweater thrown over her shoulders. Bill Anderson was a tad taller than Kurt, with dark curly hair. He looked very much like Cooper (or vice versa, Kurt supposed) except for his slightly Asian features which he got from his mother, a striking Filipina woman Kurt had the pleasure to meet one Christmas.

The Andersons went first to Blaine, fussing over him briefly, before turning to Kurt. "It's so nice to see you again," Tammy said sincerely, smiling at him. "And New York's been good to you. How handsome you've grown up to be, Kurt!"

Kurt blushed, not expecting the long lost friend treatment from Tammy, but he should have – he knew Blaine shared his good manners and genuine nature with his parents. "Thank you, it's good to see you too," he managed to get out. 

Bill held out his hand to shake Kurt's, his smile mirroring his wife's. "Sorry we couldn't take you boys out to eat last night, doctor's orders, you know. Rain check?"

"Of course." Dinners out with the Andersons had been a regular event going back to when Kurt had first started at Dalton. It was nice to think that they might happen again.

"Well, boys, thanks for bringing Blaine over. We can take it from here," Tammy announced, taking Blaine's overnight bag from Sam. Kurt could see Blaine cringe, and Sam saw it too.

"No problem, Tammy, but we're going to stick around, if that's okay with Blaine?" Sam asked. Tammy and Bill both swiveled their heads to look at Blaine, as if they had just been reminded that he was not an inanimate object. 

"Thanks, guys, I'd like that." Blaine smiled.

Sam quickly grabbed Blaine's arm and headed off to the elevators, leaving Kurt to make small talk with the Andersons. "Sam certainly knows how to put me in my place, doesn't he," Tammy remarked fondly. "I do like that boy. So, Kurt, tell me what you're up to these days."

They were parted soon enough, however, as Blaine and his parents were whisked off to see the doctor, and Sam and Kurt settled down in the waiting room. Kurt had brought some schoolwork, but he was having trouble concentrating on anything. He found himself staring off into space when Blaine's parents finally came out to join them. 

"They're taking him into surgery soon," Bill explained. "It will be a few hours, or more, before we hear anything. You should go down to the cafeteria, at least, get something to eat."

Kurt decided this was a good idea, to give Blaine's parents some space if nothing else. He and Sam found the cafeteria easily enough, but Kurt didn't really feel like eating. Sam got a huge chocolate chip cookie and gave Kurt a piece, which he nibbled at and then set aside. Somehow the hospital cafeteria was upsetting him even more than the rest of the place, filled not just with the regular waiting room inhabitants, who might be done with their waiting in a matter of hours, but with regular visitors who came day after day, made friends with the staff, knew exactly what kinds of muffins were fresh, because they had a friend or family member who was there for way too long. Kurt thought to himself that he had spent far too much time in hospitals for someone who hadn't even graduated college yet. Blaine's surgery had better go well, so they could get him out of here and back to his apartment where he'd be safe, not stuck in this bland, fluorescent light limbo. Suddenly Blaine's fear of something going wrong felt real to Kurt. Blaine had been trapped in a place just like this for months; he had lost hope, and it had been a struggle for him to get it back. No wonder he was so scared.

Kurt was halfway to the elevators when Sam caught up with him. "Dude, what the hell? Slow down."

Kurt turned and grabbed Sam's arm. "Sorry, but I just want to get back up there." He kept walking, dragging Sam along with him.

Sam shrugged his arm away but followed Kurt, muttering something about letting a person finish his cookie.

When they returned to the waiting room the Andersons were sitting in the same place they had been when they left, talking quietly to each other. Sam gave them a little wave but led Kurt over to some chairs on the other side of the room. "Want to tell me what that was all about?"

"It wouldn't make any sense," Kurt said. "I just got scared."

Sam stared at Kurt until he wanted to squirm, then leaned over and pulled Kurt into a hug. Kurt stiffened, but Sam held on, tightening his arms around his shoulders and patting him on the back. "He's gonna be fine, Kurt. Just a few more hours, and you'll see. It's gonna be okay." Kurt forced himself to relax, and moved his arms around Sam to return the hug with a brief squeeze. Blaine was right, he thought, Sam was a good hugger. Kurt moved back, catching Sam’s concerned look. He had to pull it together, this was not about him. "Thanks, Sam. I’ll be fine."

\----------

When Blaine woke up, his mother was next to him, a hand on his shoulder. He could hear a doctor saying something, and his dad answering. His mom leaned down and gave him a kiss on his forehead. “It’s all over, honey. You did great. Everything went well.” He closed his eyes again.

The next time Blaine woke up, he was back in the hospital room where he had started the day. His mother was reading in the chair nearby. “Mom?”

“Blaine, you’re awake. How are you feeling?” his mom asked. A nurse interrupted them and poked around, asking him questions and taking his temperature. She was explaining something to his mom, but he couldn’t really focus on it. He tried to touch his leg but there were blankets in the way, and it seemed like too much trouble to sort it out.

“Are Sam and Kurt here?” he croaked out. 

“They are. They’ve been in the waiting room the whole time.” His mom held a cup of water with a straw in it up to his mouth, and he took a few sips. “Do you want me to go get them? I think your dad went to find some better coffee.”

“Yeah,” Blaine nodded, letting his eyes close again. 

The next thing he knew he could smell Kurt’s cologne and a gentle kiss was being pressed to his cheek. He opened his eyes, and Kurt was there next to him, a concerned look on his face. “Hi,” Kurt said shyly. 

“Hi,” Blaine replied. He tried to reach out for Kurt but the i.v. was on that side. Kurt saw what he was doing and put both his hands around his, careful not to jostle anything. Blaine thought to himself that Kurt looked young, and decidedly un-Kurt like. He realized that Kurt was wearing a gray “I heart NY” t-shirt like the ones his parents had given him and Sam yesterday. “I like your shirt.”

Kurt smiled bashfully. “Your parents had one for me, too.” Blaine felt a rush of love for his mom for including Kurt. He looked around to find his parents but they had apparently cleared out to give him some time with his friends. Another good move on their part. Maybe this whole talking to his parents about how he’d like things to go was actually effective. Who knew.

Before he could ask where Sam was, he appeared on his other side, dragging a chair with him. Sam gave Blaine an awkward hug, putting his hands on Blaine’s shoulders and tucking his head up next to Blaine’s for a moment, whispering in his ear, “it’s okay now, dude. It went really well. It’s different this time.” Blaine relaxed, not even realizing he had been tense, and let himself just breathe into Sam’s hair for a minute. He closed his eyes, letting Sam and Kurt’s quiet chatter flow over him. At some point a nurse came and poked him some more, and his stomach growled.

Sam laughed. “Do you ever get to eat anything in here?” 

“His food tray really should have come by now,” the nurse replied, frowning. She picked up his chart and looked at Blaine. “You’re cleared to eat almost anything, just small portions and nothing too heavy, if you want to send your friends down to the cafeteria to get something for you. I hear they have pretty good ice cream there.”

“See?” Sam said proudly. “Ice cream. I totally called it.”

Later that evening, everyone had taken turns going down to the cafeteria to eat dinner except for Blaine. He did finally get some ice cream and a few fries Sam brought back up with him, along with some jello from the tray that eventually showed up. Sam had found some action movie to watch, and Kurt was pretending to watch with him. Blaine’s parents looked tired, and even his mom had run out of small talk.

“It’s late, guys, why don’t you go back to the hotel,” Blaine suggested. “I’m sure they’ll let you back in tomorrow morning.”

“Ha, ha,” his mom said, coming over next to him. “I know you’re all grown up now and everything, but I don’t want to leave you here by yourself.”

“I’ll stay,” Kurt spoke up. “I mean, if it’s okay with Blaine, I’d like to stay.” 

The first words that almost fell out of Blaine’s mouth were “you don’t have to do that,” but then he looked at Kurt, standing tall, with one hand grasping the elbow of his other arm. He seemed determined, Blaine thought, with a side of nervous, and Blaine realized that now was not the time to deflect Kurt’s offer. “I’d really like that,” Blaine said softly, catching Kurt’s gaze.

“Well, then, let me check with the staff and let them know,” Bill said. “I can’t imagine they’ll have any problem with it.” 

“Not once he’s done talking to them, he won’t,” Sam said to Blaine as Bill left the room. 

Tammy laughed. “The Anderson men have great powers of persuasion,” she said, smiling. “I’ve always said it’s one part logic, three parts charm.”

“Or in Cooper’s case, add a dose of smoke and mirrors,” Blaine joked.

Arrangements were made, and Bill and Tammy hugged Blaine good night and gathered their things to leave. Sam and Kurt exchanged some kind of meaningful look, and Kurt joined the Andersons as they left, saying he’d walk them out.

“Wanted some private time with me?” Blaine joked. But as Sam turned towards him, he realized he wasn’t wrong. “C’mere, Sam.” Blaine pushed himself up and gave Sam a proper hug as he perched on the edge of the bed. “Are you okay?”

Sam nodded against Blaine’s shoulder. “Yeah. Just needed a hug.”

“Anytime.” Blaine rubbed Sam’s back. “Rachel’s at our place tonight, right?” 

Sam sat up, taking a deep breath. “Yup. She texted me a little while ago to see when I’d be home. Apparently she thinks we’re having a bonding night. She mentioned something about a makeover?”

Blaine pushed Sam’s long bangs out of his eyes. While Sam never let his hair get back to the ridiculous length it had reached senior year, he didn’t like it super-short, either. “Just don’t let her cut your hair. Nail polish is fine, you can always take it off. And if she goes for the mascara, make sure to take pictures.”

Sam laughed. “Got it.”

“Hey, before you go, can you help me with something?” Blaine wanted to change out of the hospital gown, but wasn’t really sure how it was going to work. Definitely a task better performed out of sight of his boyfriend, if he hoped to retain any dignity whatsoever when this mess was over. Sam found his overnight bag and helped him put on a soft, navy sleep shirt and loose boxers. Blaine immediately felt more human. It didn’t hurt that whatever pain medication he was on took away even his usual day to day pain, making it relatively easy to move his leg. 

“Careful there,” the nurse said, coming in to the room as Blaine was stretching his leg out. “You don’t want to overexert yourself. It’s not going to feel as good in the morning, I’m afraid.” The nurse wanted him to try standing up, so she took one side and Sam the other, and Blaine gingerly slid off the bed. “Looks like you’ve done this before?” she asked Sam.

“I’m a pro,” Sam agreed, anchoring Blaine’s arm over his shoulder and grasping him firmly around the waist. "Want to wash up?” he asked, indicating the bathroom.

“You can help him there and back, but no more for tonight. Call me if you need me,” the nurse said, writing something on Blaine’s chart and then leaving the room.

“Ready for this?” Blaine nodded, and leaned heavily on Sam. He felt wobbly and off balance, but somehow they made it to the bathroom. Sam left Blaine sitting on edge of the toilet while he got his toiletry bag, and then hauled Blaine back up to use the sink, standing next to him while he quickly washed his face. “You don’t look so good,” he commented as Blaine started to brush his teeth, grabbing him around the waist and lowering him back down. Blaine felt a little dizzy, but it passed as he rested his head against Sam. 

Finally Blaine straightened up and chuckled at Sam, squatting on the floor next to him in the tiny bathroom. “You’re really a good friend, Sam.”

“You kidding? This is nothing. Soon you’re going to have to, you know, use the facilities.” Sam raised his eyebrows at him and pointed at the toilet.

“That, I am doing myself.”

\----------  
Down in the lobby with Blaine’s parents, Kurt could no longer ignore the elephant that had been lurking in the hospital room all day. “I’m sorry,” he blurted out, as they turned to say good night to him.

“What for?” Bill asked, surprised.

Kurt wrung his hands and took a deep breath. “For not being there for Blaine. For leaving him when he needed me.”

“Oh, Kurt,” Tammy sighed. “The situation you two were in would have challenged even the most stable marriage. I know you both had the best intentions, but you were so young, and everything was brand new.”

“But you must think I’m a terrible person, to do that to Blaine.”

“You’re not a terrible person, Kurt,” Bill said. “And you didn’t do anything to Blaine. You were dealing with some pretty tough stuff yourself.”

“Kurt, come here a minute.” Tammy turned towards a bench by the door, and Kurt followed her and sat down, not sure what else to say. “I hope you know that we would support Blaine in whatever he chooses to do. And when he told us about your engagement, we supported him in that. But we couldn’t help but wonder if it was too soon.” She glanced at Bill, who nodded. “I’m not going to say that what happened was for the best, because there was nothing good about what happened that day. You and your family know that better than anyone. But consider the possibility that you and Blaine might end up with a stronger relationship that you might have had otherwise.” She smiled and gave Kurt an encouraging look. “Blaine tells me things are going well?”

“Yeah, I think they are,” Kurt replied, feeling a smile tugging at his cheeks despite himself.

“Then trust yourselves to figure out the future, and try not to worry too much about the past.” Tammy was gazing at him with her big brown eyes, so much like Blaine’s at times that it was uncanny.

“Okay,” Kurt said, smiling broadly now. “Okay.”

\----------

By the time Kurt returned to the room Blaine was back in bed, tucked under the sheet, and feeling a little less like he was going to pass out. 

“Everything okay?” Kurt asked.

“We had an exciting trip to the bathroom. I took video and everything.” Sam joked.

“Very funny,” Blaine said.

Sam found his backpack in the corner and pulled it on, then came over and gave Blaine a quick hug. “See you in the morning, dude.” He turned to Kurt. “Take care of him, okay?”

Blaine smiled, touched once again by the concern Sam always showed him. “I’m fine, Sam. Go home and play with Rachel.” The looks both Sam and Kurt gave him at that were priceless. “That is **not** what I meant.”

Suddenly Sam bounced back over to Blaine, looking happier than he had all day. “I almost forgot.” He held his hand up, and Blaine obediently high-fived him. “Blam!”

Any private conversation Blaine hoped to have with Kurt was put off for a few more minutes when the nurse came by to check on him. Satisfied that he hadn’t done any damage to his stitches with his trip across the room, she finally left them with a warning that she’d be stopping by every two to three hours during the night to check his vitals.

“Bet you’re regretting your decision to sleep over now,” Blaine said lightly.

“Not for a minute,” Kurt replied, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek. “Let me change, and I’ll be right back.” Kurt grabbed his messenger bag and headed into the bathroom. 

Guess he planned ahead, Blaine thought. He closed his eyes, suddenly feeling very tired.

When he opened them again, the room was dim. A different nurse was checking his chart, and talking quietly with Kurt. 

“Kurt?” 

“Hey there,” Kurt said, coming over to him and putting a hand on his shoulder. “You fell asleep. It’s after midnight now.”

Blaine was confused, and his leg was aching. The nurse pulled the sheet aside and was doing something to the bandage on his thigh. “It hurts,” he said.

The nurse answered him calmly. “I’m sorry, dear. Your meds are wearing off, and you’re not due for more for a little while. How bad is it?”

Blaine considered that in order to figure that out, he’d have to move his leg, which seemed like a bad idea. “It’s just sort of throbbing, when I don’t move it,” he said. He shifted his leg a little, and a sharp pain shot through him. He squeezed his eyes shut. “It really hurts.”

“I can tell,” the nurse agreed. “Let me see if I can get you something sooner, to help you sleep.”

Once she had left, Kurt pulled his chair up as close as he could get to Blaine, and gently laid his head down on his shoulder, his arm lightly resting across his chest. “I wish I could do something to help.”

Blaine took Kurt’s hand from where it rested on his chest and took it in his. “You are.” He lay there for a few minutes, feeling Kurt’s breath against his neck, and rubbing his thumb along his wrist. “Kurt?”

“Yeah?”

This is what he had been hoping to talk to Kurt about earlier, before he fell asleep for what seemed like the hundredth time that day. “What did the doctor say? I couldn’t really focus, and I didn’t want to ask with everyone here.” Not that his parents didn’t know, of course, but it was one thing for the doctor to tell them, and another to have them staring at him when they explained whatever his next round of torture was going to be.

Kurt sat up, careful not to jostle him. “You really didn’t hear?”

Blaine shook his head, trying not to assume that this meant bad news.

“It’s good, Blaine, really good.” Kurt’s brow furrowed as he tried to remember exactly what the surgeon’s report had been. “They were able to do what they wanted to do with minimal interruption of the muscle – that’s not exactly how he said it, but I think that’s what he meant, that they didn’t have to cut you up too much-“ 

Blaine winced, and Kurt did too. “Sorry. But I guess that’s important as far as your recovery time. He also said that what they saw was worse than they had expected, but because of where it was or something, they could still do whatever it was they needed to do, and that you would have a moderate to significant reduction in your pain level, and this would likely lead to increased mobility.”

Blaine felt light headed, even though he was lying down. “Really? He said ‘moderate to significant reduction’ in pain?”

“Really. I don’t remember all of his exact words, but I remember those. I can’t believe you didn’t know, Blaine. I thought that’s why you were so relaxed this afternoon.” Kurt traced his finger along Blaine’s hairline, pushing a curl off his forehead. 

“No, I think that was the pain meds,” Blaine laughed, then grimaced as the motion moved his leg. “So this pain, right now, is just from the operation?”

“I think so.” Kurt carefully sat up off the bed, and took his phone out of his bag. “Tell me your questions, and we’ll write them down, so we can ask the doctor tomorrow morning. I can’t believe they didn’t make sure you understood what was going on.” He scrolled until he got to the page he was looking for. “I hate doctors,” he murmured under his breath.

Blaine let it all spill out, all his questions and fears, and Kurt’s thumbs moved rapidly over his screen, recording them all. When Blaine ran out of questions, his eyes drifted closed. He felt Kurt gently lean down against his chest again, his face buried in his neck. “Kurt?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you for being here.”

He felt Kurt’s breath hitch, and Kurt’s hand reach for his. “I love you, Blaine.”

“I love you too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Especially if you’ve never commented, I’d really love to hear from you. It means so much to read your comments. I’m also curious to know - what do you think of this portrayal of Blaine’s parents? Feel free to come visit me on Tumblr as well (flowerfan2), and thanks for reading!


	28. Chapter 28

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> AU after 5x02. When the New Directions’ bus crashes before Nationals, Finn is killed and Blaine is badly injured. Grieving and damaged, Kurt and Blaine call off their engagement. Two years after the tragedy, they run into each other in New York City. Klaine; Blam friendship.
> 
> Warnings for past character death (Finn), discussion of depression, injuries.

By Saturday afternoon Blaine was more than ready to go home, but his doctor still hadn't come by to determine whether he could be discharged. His parents thought spending one more night in the hospital might be a good idea, but Blaine just wanted to get out of there. Kurt had gone home to shower (and take a nap, Blaine guessed, given how little sleep he must have gotten the night before) and Rachel had shown up with a box full of delicious looking mini-cupcakes that his mom was currently examining very closely.

"You can go ahead and eat one, you know, mom," Blaine said. “Or even two.”

"I'm well aware," she responded. "I just want to choose the right one." 

Earlier that day Blaine had a visit from a physical therapist to talk about how to get his leg back into shape. It looked like they would be able to have someone come to the apartment until he was healed enough to go back to his regular appointments. What was surprising to Blaine, however, is how little time everyone expected this to take. True to his word, Kurt had brought out Blaine's list of questions when the doctor came by on rounds ridiculously early that morning, and went through each of them, taking notes on the doctor’s answers. Kurt also ran through them with the physical therapist. The consensus was that once the pain and trauma from the operation itself had worn off, it shouldn't take long to return to the level of mobility Blaine had reached before the operation. In the meantime, after a few days of mostly bed rest, he was allowed to use his leg as much as he felt comfortable doing. In other words, if he didn't want to use the wheelchair, he didn't have to. This was music to Blaine’s ears. He could live with the sharp ache he was currently feeling, if on the other side was the freedom of walking around again (albeit at the pace of an elderly turtle).

"Hey, man, any word yet?" Sam came into the room, looking around for a place to prop his guitar. He was taking over Blaine's spot playing for the children at the hospital while Blaine was recovering. 

"Nope.” Blaine tilted his laptop towards Sam, who had pulled a chair up next to him. “Want to try to find a movie to watch?" 

"Sure. By the way, Jackie and Terrence say hi. And the girl with the huge eyes."

"Martina. She's adorable."

"Blaine? Something you need to tell us?" Rachel asked.

"Relax, Rachel. It's just Blaine's tiny fan club. He volunteers, singing for the kids here."

"Well, you'd think all that volunteer work would at least entitle you to some attention from these doctors," Rachel said. "Maybe I should go see what I can find out."

"Thank you, Rachel, but that won't be necessary." Bill came in and gave Rachel a pat on the shoulder. "I've just talked with Dr. Lee's assistant. The doctor has been detained, but she should be able to come by in the next few hours." There was a general groan from everyone in the room, Blaine included.  
Rachel looked like she was going to offer her services again, when Tammy spoke up. “Bill and I were thinking of taking a walk and seeing where we might get some take-out for dinner. Rachel, would you like to come with us? I’d love to hear about what you’ve been working on these days.”

Blaine smiled as Rachel cheerfully agreed, always glad to find a willing audience. His mom dropped a quick kiss on his forehead. “Text us if the doctor comes.” 

With the three of them gone, the room was much quieter, and Blaine felt like he could breathe a little easier. He closed his eyes, and felt Sam take the laptop off the bed. “Want to sleep for a bit?” Sam asked softly.

Blaine opened his eyes and smiled at his friend. “I didn’t sleep very well last night.” Sam opened his mouth to reply, and then seemed to change his mind. Blaine figured he was about to say “I didn’t either,” but let it go for now. “How was your bonding night with Rachel?”

Sam grinned. “It was actually really fun. She dressed me up in different outfits for a while – hope you don’t mind, she was pretty interested in your bowtie collection – and then she did this.” Sam held up his hands, showing Blaine his nails, which had been shaped, buffed, and coated in clear polish. “I don’t think I’d do it again, but it does feel pretty neat.” Sam rubbed his nails with the fingers of his other hand. “She used lots of moisturizer, too.” He held a hand out for Blaine to touch.

Blaine obediently took Sam’s hand in his, feeling his smooth fingernails as instructed, and the skin on the back of his hand. “Your skin is pretty dry. You can keep using my lotion, if you want.”

Sam felt the skin on Blaine’s hands and compared it to his own. “Definitely softer. I didn’t realize that was from the lotion.”

“What, you thought my hands were naturally this soft?”

“All just part of your charm, dude.” Sam smiled and then yawned, stretching his arms over his head. Blaine couldn’t help but wonder what clothes Rachel dressed him in – he clearly wouldn’t fit in most of Blaine’s things. 

“Any chance Rachel took pictures?”

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” Sam pulled out his phone and opened up Facebook. “I only let her post a few.” He held it out for Blaine to see. 

Blaine’s favorite was Sam wearing a gray shirt with one of his bow ties, charcoal with teal and black lines through it. Rachel had styled Sam’s hair so it swept up a little bit, and paired a trim pair of black slacks with the outfit. “You look very handsome, Sam.”

“Thanks.” He pocketed his phone, and glanced at the reclining armchair on the other side of the bed. 

“Sam?”

“Yeah?”

“I think I’m going to close my eyes for a while, if that’s okay.”

“Sure, dude. Guess if you’re going to sleep, I might as well too.” Sam moved over into the recliner and pushed it back as far as it would go. Blaine offered him one of the light blankets they had found for Kurt to use last night, and within a few minutes Sam was fast asleep, curled up in the chair.

Blaine was worried about Sam. He wondered if he should try to have them both talk with Betsy, as Kurt had suggested. This whole lack of sleep thing was bad enough in the summer, but when classes started again there was no way Sam would be able to get by on two or three hours a night. There had to be something he could do.

Blaine dozed off himself, waking only when he heard someone sit down next to him. “Hey there,” Kurt said softly, a fond expression on his face. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“It’s okay, I wasn’t really asleep,” Blaine said.

“As opposed to Sam,” Kurt said, smiling as Sam snorted and turned over, pulling the blanket up to his chin. “Too much fun with Rachel last night?”

“No, I don’t think Rachel was what kept him up.”

“Oh.” Kurt frowned. 

“Yeah. I’ll talk to him more when we get home.” Blaine reached out for Kurt, stroking the purple paisley scarf he had around his neck. “I like this.”

Kurt traced a finger along Blaine’s cheekbone. “I like this,” he said softly, and leaned in to brush his lips against Blaine’s.

“Mmm. You smell good,” Blaine breathed out. “C’mere.” He had a hand on Kurt’s shoulder and was pulling him closer when he heard the distinct sound of a throat clearing.

Kurt jumped back, and Blaine groaned as Dr. Lee entered the room. “Glad to see you’re feeling better, Mr. Anderson,” she said, trying not to laugh. “I take it you’d like to go home today?”

“Yes, please,” Blaine mumbled, scrunching his eyes shut and wishing he could just disapparate out of there.

In contrast, Kurt had recovered quickly, standing up and smoothing down his pants as he moved out of the way so the doctor could examine Blaine. “He’s been out of bed with assistance, and has met all the criteria for discharge,” Kurt pointed out. “He’d certainly sleep better at home.”

At this, Dr. Lee seemed about to lose her battle with the giggles, breaking out into a broad smile. “I have to agree, Kurt. These beds just aren’t very comfortable, are they.” She scribbled something on Blaine’s chart and regarded the boys with amusement. “It’s been a pleasure meeting you, and Sam as well.” She glanced over to where Sam was still fast asleep on the chair. “I’ll have a nurse stop by with some instructions for when you get home, but after that, you’re free to go.”

“Well, that wasn’t embarrassing at all,” Blaine said, pulling the sheet back up to his chest.

“On the up side, I think I just got permission from your doctor to sleep with you tonight,” Kurt mused.

As much as Blaine was looking forward to snuggling with Kurt in his own bed again, he kind of wanted to be a little more mobile and a little less exhausted before their next sleepover, even if they weren’t going to be doing much except sleeping. “Maybe tomorrow night, after my parents go home?”

“Deal.” Kurt stood up and wandered around the room, gathering up Blaine’s things from the bathroom. “Hey, do you think that other doctor will come by, Dr. Avery?”

“I don’t remember a Dr. Avery.”

“Tall, nice shoulders, good looking…”

“His name is Dr. Adams. Dr. Avery is a character on Grey’s Anatomy.” Blaine laughed. “And no, I think he was an intern, we probably won’t see him again.”

Kurt shrugged. “He was cute. He could be on Grey’s Anatomy.”

“I think you’ve been watching too much television.”

“Says the guy who seems to have watched all ten seasons of Friends in the past two months.”

“Friends is awesome,” Sam mumbled, sitting up and rubbing his eyes. “Hey, was there a doctor in here?”

“Yup, and she discharged me. We have to wait for the nurse, though.”

“Did you text your parents?” Sam asked.

Blaine sighed. “Do I have to?”

“They’ve actually been really cool about everything,” Kurt said, coming back to sit down next to Blaine and running a finger along his arm. “Really cool.” Blaine felt like Kurt was trying to tell him something.

“Did you guys have a heart to heart?”

“Something like that.” Kurt smiled tentatively. “Tell you later?”

“Of course.”

\----------

Later that night, after Blaine was finally released, Blaine’s parents treated them all to a feast of take-out Thai food back at the apartment. After dinner Rachel headed out to meet some friends, and Tammy and Bill went back to their hotel, promising to bring over bagels in the morning.

“Your parents have to go home already. I’ve gained ten pounds in the past two days,” Sam said, patting his stomach and groaning as he got up, heading back towards his room.

“What can I say, they like to feed me.” Blaine smiled and yawned, leaning away from the table. He was already in his pajamas, having changed even before dinner. It felt ridiculously good to be back home, even if he had only been away for one night. 

“Sleepy, honey?” Kurt asked, coming around and rubbing Blaine’s shoulders. “Sure you don’t want me to stay?”

“No, Sam and I will be fine. Plus, I’m really exhausted.” Blaine tilted his head back for a kiss, closing his eyes as Kurt’s soft lips touched his. 

Kurt came around and took the chair next to Blaine, searching his eyes. “You’re okay otherwise, right?” 

“Yeah, I’m really okay.” Blaine smiled. “Remarkably so.”

“Good.” Kurt smiled. “I’ll head out now, then, before I’m tempted to try to get you to change your mind.” Kurt leaned over and gave Blaine a gentle hug, pressing the side of his face against Blaine’s. “I love you.” 

“Love you too.” They exchanged a quick kiss, and Kurt got up, giving Sam a wave as he left. 

Sam stood by the kitchen table, looking ready for bed himself in his sweatpants and t-shirt. “So, what’s on the agenda?”

Blaine just wanted to put his head down on the table and close his eyes, but he wasn’t quite there yet. “Change the bandage on the incision, find my medicine, and take me to bed?”

Sam laughed. “Your seduction technique is a little rusty, but I think we can work with it.” He handed Blaine the crutches the hospital had sent home with him, and stood next to him as Blaine struggled to stand up. 

“These are a lot harder to use than they look,” Blaine said sadly, as he cringed and wobbled. 

“Maybe you could use the wheelchair, just for tonight?” Sam suggested. “You’re so tired, you don’t want to hurt yourself.”

“Yeah, okay.” Blaine grabbed on to Sam as he helped him sit back down. 

Sam brought the wheelchair out from Blaine’s bedroom, and eased Blaine into it. He crouched in front of him, his hands on Blaine’s knees, and looked into his eyes. “It’s just temporary, dude. Don’t freak out.” 

Blaine nodded. “I’m good.” He really didn’t like the wheelchair, but Sam was right – overexerting himself now, when he wasn’t even healed from the surgery, wouldn’t help his progress. There was nothing wrong with using the wheelchair if it would help him, and he needed to stop thinking that there was.

Finally Blaine had crossed everything off his list, double checked the instructions the nurse had given him, and was ready to go to sleep. Sam wheeled him into his bedroom, helped him into bed, and then returned a minute later with a glass of water to leave on his nightstand. Blaine slid under the covers, feeling like he could be fast asleep in no time at all. But there was one more thing left to do, before he closed his eyes.

Sam was fiddling with the wheelchair, trying to line it up with the side of the bed, presumably so Blaine would have a fighting chance of getting into it by himself. “Sam?”

“Yeah?”

“Will you stay in here with me tonight?” Blaine had thought about prefacing his request with some kind of explanation about how he might need help during the night, but decided against it. Sam had said he was trying to let go of denial, but Blaine didn’t think he was doing a particularly good job. While it was true that Blaine did need Sam’s help, especially now, Sam also needed him too. And there was no point in covering that up, not if Sam was going to face up to it and try to heal.

Sam smiled sheepishly at Blaine; apparently the message wasn’t lost on him either. “Yeah, I can do that. Give me a minute.” Sam returned a few minutes later, face washed and teeth brushed, and climbed carefully over Blaine, laying down on his left side. “This way you’re closer to the wheelchair if you need it.”

“You’re such a dork, Sam.” Sam had figured out ages ago that he had to lie on Blaine’s left side if he wanted cuddles, otherwise he risked putting pressure on Blaine’s injured leg. Blaine lifted his arm and pulled Sam to him, letting him rest his head on his chest. “I can’t promise you this will work for long. I got pretty whiny last night when the pain meds wore off.”

“Whine all you want, B. You know I sleep like a log.”

They both huffed at that – Sam did sleep like a log, in between the times when his nightmares woke him up, anyway. 

Blaine relaxed, listening to Sam’s breathing even out, his head heavy on his chest. Lying still in bed, if he just ignored the ache from the incision, it was almost as if the operation hadn’t happened at all. He didn’t want to examine the thought too closely, for fear of it backfiring on him, but so far, this surgery was nothing like the ones he had gone through before. Most importantly, he felt no trace of the hopelessness that had plagued him that year. This was just a medical procedure, one that was going to have a temporary effect on his mobility, but that was all. Blaine knew this was exactly what his doctor had told him from the start, but it had just been so very hard to believe, knowing all the things that could go wrong. But now he was starting to believe it.

Blaine woke a few hours later to a throbbing in his thigh, but realized almost immediately that the pain probably wasn’t what woke him. Sam was curled up, facing away from him, clearly caught in a nightmare. His shoulders were twitching and he was mumbling something Blaine couldn’t make out, but it didn’t sound good.

“Sam?” Blaine turned and tentatively put a hand on Sam’s shoulder, shaking him gently. “Sam? You’ve having a bad dream.” This had no noticeable effect, so Blaine shook him harder. “Sam? Wake up,” he said firmly.

Sam jolted awake, or some form of awake, anyway. “Blaine?” He flipped over, nearly whacking Blaine in the face in the process. “Blaine? Are you okay?” He sounded frightened, and it hurt Blaine to hear it.

“Sam, I’m fine. You were having a nightmare.” Blaine tried to touch Sam’s arm, make some kind of connection, but Sam kept moving around, rubbing his hand over his eyes and turning back and forth to look around the room.

“Relax, Sam. It’s okay. You’re safe.”

“Blaine? Your leg?” Sam focused on him, his eyes wide. “Is your leg okay?” 

“The operation’s over, I came home from the hospital today, remember?” This didn’t seem to calm Sam down any, his breathing coming in harsh gasps. “Sam, why don’t you tell me what you think happened, what you’re worried about, okay? Whatever it is, I don’t think things are that bad.”

Sam closed his eyes, squeezing his palms against his face. “It seemed so real,” he choked out. “Tell me it’s not real.”

“What seemed real?” Blaine put his hand around Sam’s head and slid his hand into his hair, rubbing his fingers against his scalp.

“When they did the operation, everything was too broken and they, they had to cut off your leg.”

Blaine shuddered. This was a nightmare he had himself, ages ago. He remembered telling Sam about it. But Blaine hadn’t had that particular dream in over a year. It wasn’t fair that this stuff was haunting Sam. 

He let go of Sam and shoved the blanket off them both. “Sam? Look. My leg’s fine.” He wiggled his toes and then moved his leg a little, wincing at the pain. Sam flicked his eyes from Blaine’s face down to his leg and back again. “Still not convinced?” Blaine took Sam’s hand, briefly wondering whether he had used his moisturizing lotion tonight, because his skin felt pretty nice. He laid Sam’s hand gently on his right knee. “See?” Sam actually sat up and slid down the bed, moving his hand down Blaine’s leg, and checking his other leg as well. “Keep in mind,” Blaine said lightly as Sam’s hand curled around the sole of his bare foot, “if you tickle me now, I might literally kick you in the face. And then die of pain.”

Sam let go and fell back on the bed, looking up at the ceiling. “I’m so sorry, Blaine,” he said, his voice small. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

“There’s nothing wrong with you, Sam.” Blaine tugged at Sam’s shoulder until he rolled over to face him, looking lost. “You are one of the most wonderful people I’ve ever known, and you’re my best friend. You helped me through the worst thing that’s ever happened to me, and I’m going to help you through this. But I think we need to step up our game.”

Sam nodded. “I don’t know how much more of this I can take,” he said, his voice tight.

“I know, Sammy. We’ll figure it out.” Blaine put a hand on Sam’s arm, and waited until Sam looked at him. “Would it be okay with you if we talked to Betsy together?”

“Sure, but what good would that do?”

Blaine wasn’t sure if Sam was familiar with the term “unreliable narrator,” so he decided to just spell it out. “I want to make sure she understands the problem. You have a tendency to downplay how bad things are when you’re talking about yourself.”

“You think I’m sugar-coating it?” Sam did get it.

“Maybe.” Sam seemed to accept this, so Blaine went on. “Have you ever talked with her about medication?”

Sam tensed, as Blaine thought he might. They had only ever danced around this subject, and that had been when Blaine was coming off the meds he had taken after the accident. Sam had seemed relieved for him at the time. Blaine had gotten the feeling that Sam had been suspicious of taking meds. Not unlike Blaine himself had been.

“Do you think I need to?” Sam asked softly, looking away.

“I don’t know, but I think you should talk about it. She’ll probably want you to see a psychiatrist. But Sam,” Blaine waited until Sam met his eyes, “there’s nothing wrong with taking medication, to help your anxiety, or to help you sleep. You know it really helped me, right?”

Sam bit his lip and squirmed. “How did it feel?”

Blaine wanted to rant at the stupid television shows where characters refused to take their meds because it made them “different,” resulting in real life people that needed all kinds of meds (like him) refusing to take them, but that wasn’t what Sam needed right now. “Well, they probably won’t give you the same thing I took. But it didn’t really feel like anything. It just made it easier for me to see my way out of feeling so hopeless. It’s not changing you, Sam. It’s only adjusting the chemicals your body produces, if you need it. Just like someone might need medicine to adjust their cholesterol, or blood sugar.” He wasn’t sure if this was entirely accurate, but he thought it was close.

“But they’re just nightmares. I shouldn’t need to take medicine for nightmares.”

“You shouldn’t have to have nightmares at all. But you do, and they’re not going away by themselves. You’re still traumatized by what happened, it’s not your fault.”

“Will you ask Betsy for me?”

“Of course.” Blaine had a moment of déjà vu, remembering Kurt quizzing his doctor this morning. Maybe “willingness to take on difficult medical questions” should be a criteria for all friendships. It was certainly something that was coming in handy lately, although this might be an indication that his circle of friends had way too many medical problems.

“Blaine?”

“Yeah, Sam?”

Sam moved his arm, inviting Blaine to lay up against him this time. He rested his head on Sam’s chest, and sighed as Sam’s arm came around his waist. Blaine could feel Sam’s chest rising and falling, calmer now. At least he seemed to have relaxed a little bit. “Thank you for worrying about me, Sam.”

Sam just shrugged. 

“I mean, obviously having horrible dreams about me being hurt isn’t a good thing, but I do know you worry.”

“I can’t help it,” Sam said softly, his hand grasping at Blaine’s shirt.

“You know I love you for it, right? You were so good to me about this whole surgery thing, Sam. You make me feel safe.”

“I just want you to be okay.”

“I really think this time I am.” Blaine raised his head and looked at Sam, who was staring at the ceiling. “Hey, look at me.” Sam complied, his big green eyes wet. “I really am okay. I’m not going anywhere. Got it?”

“Yeah,” Sam said, taking a deep breath, and pulling Blaine tighter against him. 

Blaine lay his head back down on Sam’s chest, and reached to pull the blanket back up. “Do you think you can try to go to sleep now?” Blaine didn’t want to doze off with Sam still awake, but he wasn’t sure he’d have a choice much longer. When Sam didn’t answer, Blaine sat up and looked at him again. “What if we sing something?”

“What?” Sam was looking at him like he was slightly deranged, which was at least better than his previous flat expression.

“Isn’t that what we learned in high school? To sing about our problems?” Blaine looked wide eyed at Sam, trying to keep a straight face.

Sam didn’t have the same concern, breaking out into a barking laugh. “You’re insane, Anderson.”

Now you’ll be sorry, Blaine thought. “You may be right, I may be crazy,” he started singing, shaking his shoulders back and forth. “Come on, Sam, sing with me!”

“No way. How is that song supposed to make me fall asleep?”

“Fine. You pick one.” Blaine shifted against Sam, smiling. “I’ll make the coffee in the morning if you can pick the one I’m thinking of.”

“I know exactly which one you’re thinking of,” Sam said. “That’s not even hard.” Sam cleared his throat and started singing softly, _“There is a young cowboy, he lives on the range. His voice and his cattle are his only companions. He works in the saddle and he sleeps in the canyons, waiting for summer, his pastures to change…”_

Blaine joined in, happily matching his voice to Sam’s. _”And as the moon rises he sits by his fire, thinking about women and glasses of beer. And closing his eyes as the doggies retire, he sings out a song which is soft but it's clear, as if maybe someone could hear...”_ This was exactly the song Blaine had been thinking of. Sam had sang it to him back in Lima, at Kitty’s sleepover, when they were all so stressed out after the shooting at McKinley. Sam had been having nightmares then too, and Blaine couldn’t sleep, but Sam had held him and sang to him, in front of Artie, and Jake, and Ryder, not caring about what anyone thought about them, the straight guy and the gay guy curled up around each other, seeking comfort and safety in an uncertain world.

Blaine snuggled into Sam, and kept singing as they reached the chorus. 

_Goodnight you moonlight ladies, rock-a-bye sweet baby James._   
_Deep greens and blues are the colors I choose, won't you let me go down in my dreams?_   
_And rock-a-bye sweet baby James._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song Sam sings at the end is _Sweet Baby James_ by James Taylor. If you haven’t read it yet, you can read about Kitty’s sleepover in my fic They Calm the Waves on A03 (the same sleepover Sam and Blaine talked about earlier in this story).


	29. Chapter 29

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> AU after 5x02. When the New Directions’ bus crashes before Nationals, Finn is killed and Blaine is badly injured. Grieving and damaged, Kurt and Blaine call off their engagement. Two years after the tragedy, they run into each other in New York City. Klaine; Blam friendship.
> 
> Warnings for past character death (Finn), discussion of depression, injuries.

Kurt rolled over in bed, searching for a position that would make his head stop aching. It had been a long week, and now just as the weekend had arrived, he felt awful. Last weekend it had seemed like all they had to do was get through Blaine's surgery, but of course, life went on. The procedure going well had been a huge relief, but they hadn’t really had a chance to celebrate. Kurt had hoped to spend last Sunday cuddling and spoiling his boyfriend now that Blaine didn’t have to be worried about the surgery anymore, but his plans didn't turn out as expected. Instead, after a lovely bagel and lox breakfast with Blaine's parents, Sam and Blaine had spent most of the day napping, sleep deprived from Sam's nightmares keeping them up the night before. That night, after Blaine's parents left, Kurt thought he might finally be able to sneak into bed with Blaine, but by that point, Blaine and Sam were wide awake. Really awake. Sam decided they should have a Batman movie marathon - there were apparently an endless number of Batman movies - and Blaine, being the supportive (and awake) friend that he was, happily watched along with Sam. Kurt just curled up next to Blaine on the couch and dozed.

While Blaine had spent the intervening week recuperating, Kurt had been busy preparing for the final exam in his playwriting course. It involved a performance as well as a written test, requiring Kurt to spend hours with Cora, a grumpy kid named Jason, and their student director, all in preparation for the performance of their original skit on Friday – which was, thankfully, now over. Add to that trying to catch up with work at Vogue.com, and there had been far too little time to see Blaine. Kurt had really been looking forward to spending time with him today, but at this rate, he didn't even want to get out of bed. He found his phone next to him on the nightstand. He wasn’t sure what to say, but his brain felt too foggy to come up with something clever, so he went with straightforward.

**From Kurt: I'm really sorry, but I don't think I can come over now. I'm sick.**

Blaine didn't respond right away, but there wasn't much Kurt could do to fix the situation at this point. He peeled off the sweaty t-shirt he had been sleeping in, and put on a soft navy one he had nabbed from Blaine the last time he was over there. After making sure his phone was on silent, he crawled back under the covers. Maybe if he spent the day in bed, he'd feel better by tomorrow. He closed his eyes, letting himself drift off to sleep.

The next thing Kurt knew, there was a weight on his bed, and a cool hand on his forehead. He blinked his eyes open to find Blaine sitting there, a concerned look on his face.

“Hey there,” Blaine said softly. “How are you feeling?”

Kurt let his eyes close again and just enjoyed the touch of Blaine’s hand on his skin. “Sick.”

“I got that.” Blaine chuckled. “Want to give me a little more detail? I’m guessing feverish, headache…”

“Definitely headache. I don’t think I have a fever.” Kurt whined as Blaine took his hand away.

“Just a minute, honey. I’m pretty sure you have a fever, but let’s check. Open your mouth for me.”

“Where did you get a thermometer?” Kurt asked, his words garbled as Blaine slid it under his tongue.

“Don’t talk, silly. Everyone has a thermometer. Don’t you?”

Kurt shrugged. He didn’t think so, actually.

It beeped and Blaine took it out of his mouth. “One hundred and one point five. See, you have a fever.” Blaine turned and produced some ibuprofen and a bottle of water. “Take this.”

Kurt obediently swallowed the pill and drank most of the water bottle. Blaine took it from him and twisted to set it on his nightstand. “I’ll leave this here in case you get thirsty.” 

Kurt laid his hand on Blaine’s thigh, rubbing his thumb along the nubbly seersucker fabric of his blue and white checked shorts. “How did you even get here?” Kurt mumbled. “And why do you look so cute when my head feels so bad?” Kurt ran his hand up to Blaine’s back, clad in a light pink oxford button down of soft cotton. Blaine’s tan skin looked lovely against the pink shirt.

“Mmm, I aim to please,” Blaine said, slipping down to lie next to Kurt. “I texted you back, and I called you, but you didn’t respond. So Sam and I figured we’d come check up on you.” Blaine stroked Kurt’s hair away from his face, and Kurt leaned into it. It felt so good just to lie there, not thinking about anything except the feel of Blaine’s touch.

His sleepy brain finally registered what Blaine had said. “Wait, Sam’s here?”

“Not anymore. He just helped me get over here, carried my bags and such, you know how it goes.” Kurt nodded, smiling. “Sam’s actually really germ phobic. He’s not at all friendly when I have a cold.” Blaine was speaking very softly, his voice soothing even as he joked about Sam.

“I have a hard time picturing Sam not being friendly to you.”

“Okay, maybe that’s overstating it.” Blaine leaned up on an elbow. “So, it is sort of a migraine headache?”

“Um hm.”

“Let me?” Blaine lay on his back and pulled Kurt’s head onto his chest, so he could get both hands into Kurt’s hair. “This would work better if I could sit up more, but I don’t think my leg will let me.”

“No, this is working just fine… Ohh,” Kurt moaned as Blaine massaged his temples. Blaine was focusing on the area near Kurt’s eyes, and the pressure felt wonderful. After a while he moved his fingers back, pressing gently through Kurt’s hair, pausing briefly each time Kurt tensed. He reached the back of Kurt’s neck, and Kurt thought he might just dissolve, he felt so relaxed. His head still hurt, but it just didn’t seem to matter as much. He had one arm flopped across Blaine’s waist and the other tucked around his shoulder, and he wanted to just melt right into his boyfriend and stay there forever.

“Mmmm, right there,” Kurt said encouragingly, as Blaine rubbed a particularly tense spot. “You’ve always been so good at that.” He opened his eyes briefly to look at Blaine. “Remember? After Mr. Schue’s non-wedding?” 

“I do.” Blaine smiled and leaned down to give Kurt a kiss on his forehead. “Someone had too much champagne.”

After their oh so much fun and terribly confusing to Kurt wedding hookup, Kurt had gone downstairs to find that Santana, Quinn and Mike Chang were having some kind of champagne treasure hunt, which apparently involved getting points for every opened but unfinished bottle of champagne they could find, which they then had to drink. Kurt joined in, casually swilling the cheap bubbly an effort to stop thinking about Blaine for just ten minutes, which proved to be impossible anyway. By the time Blaine came downstairs he could see Kurt wanted a little space, and so Blaine wandered off with Sam and Tina, chatting up the band and generally looking good enough to eat. After Santana caught him staring one too many times – which was understandable, really, when Kurt couldn’t help but think about all the beautiful skin hiding under Blaine’s finely tailored suit, which Kurt had just had the pleasure to reacquaint himself with – he gave up, and pulled Blaine into an inebriated but heartfelt embrace, swaying on the dance floor to whatever radio station the caterers were playing as they packed up the hall.

“I’m just glad your parents weren’t home.” Kurt had been too embarrassed to return to his own house under the influence, so they went back to Blaine’s empty one, which he had figured would have the bonus feature of more alone time with Blaine. Unfortunately Kurt had a whopper of a migraine by the time they arrived, and could only lie still and whimper while Blaine rubbed his head. He didn’t get these headaches very often, and they were usually pretty mild, but nothing made him feel better than Blaine’s hands massaging his scalp.

“I’m just glad I was there to take you home,” Blaine said softly, winding his fingers into the soft hair on the back of Kurt’s neck and pressing gentle circles there.

“Mmm,” Kurt voiced his approval. “I’m just glad your parents gave you that Prius. Who knows what would have happened that day if we had to catch a ride from Rachel?” Although given how worked up he was even before the ceremony, Kurt doubted that the lack of a backseat would have been enough to keep him and Blaine apart.

“Indeed.”

“Do you still have the Prius?”

“My parents do. But….” Blaine paused, and Kurt squeezed one eye open to look at him.

“What? Did they revoke your driving privileges for not cleaning your room?” Kurt teased.

Blaine just shrugged. Finally Kurt got it. “Can you not drive anymore?”

He shrugged again. “The last time I was home was Christmas. I was still in the chair, and I definitely couldn’t use my leg enough to drive. It’s not like I need a car in the city, or anything. It doesn’t matter.” But Blaine’s face didn’t match his words. Kurt knew how much he liked to drive – Kurt did, too, even though, as Blaine said, living in the city didn’t give him much opportunity. But back in Lima, driving was freedom.

“It must have been hard, being so dependent on people.” Kurt didn’t want to imagine it. He could barely stand being around most people; having to socialize just in order to get your daily needs met sounded like torture.

“It was.” Blaine turned, and Kurt shifted off of his chest so he was lying on his side. They faced each other, Blaine searching out Kurt’s eyes. “I really resented it. Not being able to do anything by myself, having to plan out every single move so that someone could be there to help me.”

Kurt pushed a curl off Blaine’s face and gazed into his eyes. “But it’s different now, right?” Even though Blaine did seem to be somewhat dependent on Sam, that seemed to be mostly by choice.

“It is, for the most part. Or it will be, once this new slice heals.” Kurt glanced up at Blaine for permission, then peeked under the leg of Blaine’s shorts to where a bandage covered the incision. Blaine had replaced the larger hospital style bandage with a smaller, neater version a few days ago.

“They took the stiches out yesterday, right?”

“Yup. Don’t remind me.” The appointment had been at the same time as Kurt’s final exam performance, so Sam had the pleasure of holding Blaine’s hand while he squirmed and whined – as reported by Sam to Kurt immediately afterwards.

“Can I see?” Blaine gave Kurt a “don’t know why you’d want to,” look and nodded. “Sure.”

Kurt couldn’t exactly say why he wanted to, even if Blaine had asked him outright. But there was just something about facing it that made it less scary for him, even if Blaine thought he was nuts when Kurt asked to see it earlier in the week. Kurt pushed up Blaine’s shorts and slid a fingernail under the edge of the bandage, delicately peeling it back. The incision was about four inches long, still red, but considerably less angry looking than it had been just a few days ago. Blaine had shaved the area around the site so it didn’t pull his hair out when he took the bandages on and off, and Kurt ghosted a finger carefully along next to the scar, checking Blaine’s face to make sure he wasn’t hurting him. “It must be feeling better, or you’d be kneeing me in the stomach right now,” he said, patting the bandage back down around the edges.

“Yeah, it is, at least on the surface. It still feels awfully sore underneath, though, and really stiff when I move. The new PT guy says that’s going to take more time to heal than the skin.”

Kurt was dying to ask if Blaine could feel any difference in the pain – if the surgery had in fact been successful in that respect. But he didn’t want to risk asking and having Blaine say no, especially now when it was probably too soon to tell. 

Kurt laid a hand along Blaine’s cheek, and traced down to his jaw. “I love you,” he breathed out.

Blaine smiled. “I love you too. Even if you’re a terrible patient.”

“Hey, what do you mean?”

“I massage you into a puddle and then you insist on ruining the mood by talking about real stuff.”

“I have a hard time relaxing,” Kurt said seriously.

Blaine huffed out a laugh, grinning. “You think?” He kissed Kurt on the nose and ran a hand through his hair. “Want me to try again, or do you want to sleep?”

“Both?”

“Deal.” Kurt resumed his position on Blaine’s chest and let the feeling of Blaine’s fingers rubbing against his scalp soothe him. After a while Blaine’s hands slowed, coming to rest with one on Kurt’s head, the other sliding down to his waist. “Blaine?” 

“Yeah baby?” Blaine sounded close to sleep himself. Kurt loved him like this, all drowsy and sweet.

“No one’s ever done this for me, you know. Taken care of me, like you do.”

Blaine tightened his hold around Kurt, his hand flat against the small of Kurt’s back, warm and strong. It was a moment before he replied, and when he did, his voice was tight. “I want to take care of you. Always.” Kurt opened his eyes and saw a tear sliding down Blaine’s cheek. “Even if I couldn’t before. I can take care of you now, I promise.”

“I know you can.” Kurt’s heart clenched. It was clear that the pain of what happened after the accident still haunted Blaine, in more ways than one. Blaine’s confidence in his own abilities had been damaged, his faith in himself lessened. Kurt kissed Blaine gently on the lips and on his furrowed brow until he relaxed. “I can feel your love, Blaine, in everything you do.” He put his palm against Blaine’s chest and looked into Blaine’s eyes, wet with unshed tears. “I know you love me. I don’t know why you do sometimes, but I know you do. And that’s all I need, as you’ve told me before.” Kurt smiled as Blaine finally smiled back, wiping his eyes. “And scalp massages. I just need love and scalp massages.”

\----------

Kurt woke up to a delicious smell wafting in to his bedroom. He sat up gingerly, relieved to find that the ache in his head had subsided. He went in to the kitchen to find the table set and Blaine stirring a pot on the stove. He was leaning on one crutch, the other propped against the wall. While Blaine’s unsteady posture seemed vaguely hazardous to Kurt, given the proximity of the lit burner, he decided to table the issue in favor of a more pleasant activity. He came up behind Blaine and slid his arms around his trim waist, spreading his fingers over his belly. Today’s belt had stripes, he observed. He kind of missed the little whales.

“Feeling better, honey?” Blaine asked, turning to face Kurt, who set his crutch aside and laced Blaine’s arms over his shoulders.

“Much.” He nuzzled into Blaine’s neck. “I’m not going to knock you over, am I?”

Blaine hummed and leaned against Kurt, who took a firmer grip on his waist. “I think I’m okay. Luckily my boyfriend is a dancer. They’re very strong, you know.”

Kurt preened a little. He had never thought of himself as a dancer, but it was true, he supposed. And “boyfriend” and “dancer” in the same sentence sounded quite nice as well. “I’ve heard they’re flexible, too.” He nibbled just under Blaine’s jaw, causing him to let out a breathy little moan.

Blaine tilted his head as Kurt kissed along his neck, and pressed his body closer. Ever the gentleman, he was still trying to keep their focus on the task at hand. “Kurt, I, um, I made you chicken soup.” Although Kurt would have been more than willing to leave that for later, his stomach chose that moment to growl in a decidedly unsexy manner.

Kurt pulled back, laughing as Blaine took a moment to straighten up. “So I guess you’re saying we should have dinner?”

Blaine blinked, his eyes wide. “Honestly, I have no idea what I’m saying right now, I’m not sure my brain is working at all.” He looked at the stove and the table, waving a hand at it. “But I think dinner was supposed to come next.” 

The soup did smell really good. “Dinner now, kissing later?”

“Sounds like a plan.”

After a brief argument over who was going to serve the soup (“I can do it, Kurt. Your table is barely two feet away from the stove, I’m not going to drop anything,”) they settled down to eat. Kurt smiled when he saw that Blaine had laid out a plate of saltines – Kurt’s go-to food whenever he was feeling queasy, which often happened when he had a bad headache. Luckily that particular ailment hadn’t made an appearance today, and he was able to enjoy the soup without any problem.

As they were finishing up, Blaine’s phone pinged, and he took a minute to shoot off a text. “Sorry. Sam’s looking for laundry detergent. He claims we don’t have any, but unless Rachel washed twenty loads of laundry while she was here, there’s got to be some left.” Blaine read Sam’s response, and laughed, his face crinkling up. “Sam apparently decided he was going to wash all of our sheets and towels, and wants to make sure he’s prepared. He’s such a goof.”

The thought of Sam spending the day doing his and Blaine’s laundry was such a domestic image. It spoke of the comfort Sam and Blaine felt together, how familiar they were with each other. Kurt pushed away the vague feeling of disquiet this brought him. “Why would he do that? Is the gym closed today or something?”

“I don’t know. I try not to question all of the things Sam does. I think he’s probably just trying to be a good roommate.”

Kurt took a breath, and chose honesty over snark. “That’s how he shows he cares about you. By doing things for you.”

Blaine nodded. “I guess that’s what he’s always done. Isn’t that how everyone does it?” A little frisson of discomfort must have shown on Kurt’s face, as Blaine gave him a considering look. “Can I ask you something?” 

“Of course,” Kurt said, shifting in his chair. 

“It’s about me and Sam,” Blaine began. Kurt refused to think about what unfortunate declarations that statement could preface, choosing instead to examine where the edge of one of his cloth napkins was coming unraveled. “The other day, when you were over the night before my surgery, Sam asked you if you were all right with how we were together, cuddling or whatever. I know Sam felt weird, like he was doing something he wasn’t supposed to do. Because I’m your boyfriend, not because of anything else.” Of course, Kurt thought, because Sam is perfect and doesn’t care about the gay. Blaine craned his head until Kurt had to return his gaze, and placed a single finger on Kurt’s nervous hands. “I know you said you didn’t mind, but I’m not sure if you were talking about the boyfriend thing, you were mostly talking about why two guys should be able to be physical together. But if there’s any aspect about me and Sam that bothers you, I want you to tell me.”

Kurt considered this. He really hadn’t minded watching Sam cuddle Blaine as he dozed on the couch that night. What he had told Sam at the time was true – he was glad that Blaine had someone to comfort him. His momentary twinge of jealously just now had mostly been about something different, and any part of it that was about Blaine’s current friendship with Sam needed to be quashed. “I think I’m a little jealous that you two were together when I wasn’t there, you know, last year and all. That you got to know each other so well. I feel sad that I missed that time with you, and Sam didn’t.” He took a breath. This was important. “But I don’t mind at all that you two are so physically comfortable with each other. It makes me happy, watching you guys together.”

“Happy?” Blaine asked, smirking.

“Not that kind of happy, get your mind out of the gutter,” Kurt chided. “Happy because Sam cares about you, and that makes me glad. Just like if Rachel was cuddling you. It’s not sexual, it’s just caring.”

“Okay,” Blaine said, looking at Kurt closely. “I just wanted to make sure.” He didn’t look satisfied.

Kurt figured it needed to be said, so he just went for it. “I trust you. I know you’re not doing anything with Sam. Am I the tiniest, teensiest bit jealous when he’s cuddling you? Fine, yes, but I know I shouldn’t be, and I’m not proud of it. You two don’t need to change the way you are together, okay?”

“You’re jealous?” Blaine looked like he had just received a compliment.

“That’s what you took from that?” Kurt laughed. “Of course I’m a little jealous. You’re **my** dreamboat boyfriend, and someone else is touching you. The caveman in me wants to shove Sam away and assert my rights.”

“Oh?” A blush was creeping up Blaine’s face, and Kurt realized he was turned on. 

“Definitely. I’d like to throw you over my shoulder and carry you off.” Kurt stood up and pulled Blaine to him. “I’d do it right now, but I don’t want to break you,” he whispered low into his ear. Blaine was breathing faster, his hands coming up to curl into Kurt’s shirt. 

“Try me.”

Kurt slid his hands down to cup Blaine’s ass. “C’mere.” Blaine hopped up and wrapped his legs around Kurt’s waist, hissing under his breath. Luckily the couch wasn’t far away, and Kurt quickly lowered him back down.

“That might not have been the best idea,” Blaine said sheepishly, rubbing his leg and grimacing. “Ow.”

“Shit, I’m sorry,” Kurt said, sitting down and leaning his head on Blaine’s shoulder. “I guess caveman me isn’t very smart.”

Blaine smiled, blushing again. “Maybe caveman Kurt can come visit again sometime when my leg’s feeling better?”

“Absolutely.” Kurt filed away the success of this particular moment for another time (or possibly something to think about in the privacy of his room after Blaine went home). Caveman Kurt was definitely going to make a return visit at some point in the future. In the meantime, a less strenuous activity needed to be found. Kurt dug around for the remote, finding it hidden under a cushion, and tugged Blaine up against him. “What do you say about some mindless television?”

Several hours later, after hate watching two endless episodes of American Idol (“I can’t believe that show is still on,” Kurt had moaned when Blaine excitedly clicked on it), Kurt sat up and stretched. It had gotten dark, and the only light in the apartment was the flickering of the television, and the streetlight shining in through his small kitchen window.

“What time do you have to go home? Do you want me to walk you over, or call you a cab?” Kurt figured it must be almost ten, and Sam was bound to be getting twitchy. 

“Actually, I don’t have to go home tonight.”

“You don’t?” 

“Nope. You didn’t leave me alone when I was sick. Although, you don’t seem very sick anymore…”

Kurt leaned back and threw his hand up against his forehead. “Oh, dear,” he moaned. “Suddenly I feel quite faint. It’s definitely not safe for you to leave.”

Blaine responded by leaning over and blowing a raspberry on Kurt’s exposed stomach, causing him to squeal.

“How did you do that so fast?”

“It’s a gift.”

Kurt beamed, and bounced a little on the couch. “You can really stay over? Sam’s all right with it?”

Blaine nodded. “Sam and I talked about it when you were asleep. He wants to try staying by himself. I’ll keep my phone on, and he’ll call if he needs me, or if he just wants to talk.”

“Is this his therapist’s idea?”

“Not really. But she did talk to his doctor and got him a prescription for sleeping pills, just for a little while so he can catch up on some sleep at least. He took one last night and it really seemed to help.”

“He can’t just keep taking them?”

Blaine bit his lip and paused.

“You don’t have to tell me all the details, it’s okay,” Kurt said softly. This was Sam’s business, and maybe he didn’t want Blaine sharing it with Kurt.

“No, Sam said I should talk to you about it.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. I think he might like another perspective. Or he thinks I need one.”

“About what?”

Blaine looked more uncomfortable, pulling his good leg up to his chest and wrapping his arms around it. “Medication.”

Kurt froze. The last time the topic had come up between them had been just before they called off the engagement. Kurt had suggested that maybe taking medication would help Blaine with his depression and it had resulted in a huge fight, with Blaine denying that anything was wrong and refusing to take Kurt’s calls for days. “Do you not think Sam should take meds?” he asked carefully.

“No, no, exactly the opposite,” Blaine said, shaking his head. “I think he should.” Blaine held a hand out to Kurt, palm up, and Kurt took it. His hand was shaking, and he didn’t know if it was him or Blaine causing it. “I finally started taking an anti-depressant after I came home from rehab,” Blaine said, his eyes locked on Kurt’s. “I’m sorry I didn’t listen to you and do it sooner.”

Kurt nodded, his chest tight. “It helped you?”

“It really did.” Blaine took a deep breath. “I don’t know what I was afraid of.”

“Are you still…?” Kurt had noticed Blaine taking pills sometimes, but he had assumed they were for pain.

“No. After my leg started getting better, and we were making plans to finally come to New York, my therapist suggested I come off it. It’s been almost a year without it, and I’m fine. But I really think it made a difference, and Sam really needs help…” Blaine trailed off, looking lost.

“Oh, Blaine,” Kurt breathed out, wrapping his arms around Blaine and holding him tight. “I’m so proud of you. I know how scared you were of taking anything. But you did it, and you made yourself better.”

Blaine pressed himself up against Kurt, squeezing him tight. “I’m sorry I was so awful about it.”

“You don’t have to be sorry. If you weren’t feeling so bad, you wouldn’t have needed the meds.” Kurt rubbed his back, then pulled away to look at Blaine. “Kind of a catch-22, isn’t it?”

Blaine huffed out a laugh. “I actually tried to tell Sam that if he wasn’t so exhausted, he’d see that taking meds made sense. But he didn’t buy it.”

“What’s his objection?”

“I’m not sure, he’s just really hesitant. I think he thinks it will change him, make him a different person. But it’s not even like he’d be taking the same stuff I did.” Blaine sat up, and pulled out his phone. “I did some research and there’s a drug they’re using for people with PTSD that specifically helps with nightmares and anxiety.” He held out his screen for Kurt to see. “It could be perfect for Sam. I showed him, too. But he just pulled the ‘I’m too dumb to understand that science stuff’ card and walked away.”

Kurt wasn’t surprised that Blaine had researched the issue. He probably also knew all about the possible side effects, and whether it was covered by Sam’s insurance. This was part of why it had been so infuriating when Blaine wouldn’t even consider taking meds after the accident – the Blaine he knew, healthy Blaine, would have looked at it logically.

“Sam’s so lucky to have you, you know?”

Blaine shrugged. “I feel like I’m just not getting through to him.”

“Come on, you’ve been doing everything you possibly can to help him. And I bet he’ll listen to you. Sam trusts you. He’s just scared. And he’ll have a new therapist soon, too, right?” Kurt remembered what Blaine had said a moment ago. “Did he really say you should talk to me?”

Blaine’s mouth curled in a not quite smile. “He may have said something along the lines of ‘if you want to talk about this so much, why don’t you call Kurt.’”

“Oh, I see,” Kurt said, laughing. “Trouble in paradise?” Maybe Sam wasn’t so perfect after all. Maybe he was imperfectly perfect, just like Kurt.

“No, we’re good.” Blaine smiled. “It’s not the first time we’ve argued about something, and I’m sure it won’t be the last.” He reached to put his phone back in his pocket, and then paused. “Actually, is it okay if I call him and say good night?”

Damn, this boy was adorable. And in just a few minutes, he was going to be in Kurt’s bed, cuddled up to him, all warm and sweet and loving. He could certainly spare Sam a phone call. “Of course.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The end is near... I think there will be 35 chapters, including an epilogue, but that may vary a little bit if the last few get split up differently. Thank you so much for reading!


	30. Chapter 30

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> AU after 5x02. When the New Directions’ bus crashes before Nationals, Finn is killed and Blaine is badly injured. Grieving and damaged, Kurt and Blaine call off their engagement. Two years after the tragedy, they run into each other in New York City. Klaine; Blam friendship.
> 
> Warnings for past character death (Finn), discussion of depression, injuries.

Kurt was perusing the NYADA online course catalog, trying to figure out how to fit his remaining requirements into his senior year when all of the interesting classes seemed to be scheduled at the exact same time, when his phone buzzed with a text.

**From Blaine: Are you free tonight? Please say yes.**

**From Kurt: YES! Are your tour guide duties over?**

Marley Rose had been staying with Blaine and Sam for a few days. She was going to be a freshman at NYU this fall, and had extended her orientation visit to New York so that Blaine and Sam could give her some additional tips for living in the city. Kurt suspected Marley just wanted to bask in the general merriment that was Blam before going back to Lima. Since Kurt had reluctantly started checking Facebook again (he could hardly help it, after the flurry of posts that followed after he and Blaine had revealed their relationship status) he realized how closely Blaine and Sam had kept in touch with the younger New Directions crowd. They were good mentors, he thought, even if Sam’s advice tended to be a little off the wall at times. 

**From Blaine: Marley’s seeing some other friends tonight, so I’m off the hook.**

**From Kurt: She has other friends?**

**From Blaine: Ha, ha. Pick me up around seven? We could try that new burger place.**

Kurt understood the importance of heart healthy eating as well as the next guy whose dad had heart problems, but he had been dying to try this new gourmet burger restaurant near Blaine’s apartment, and Blaine knew it.

**From Kurt: My arm is thoroughly twisted. See you soon.**

When Sam let him in to the apartment that night, Blaine and Marley were deep in conversation. They had produced a keyboard out of somewhere (Kurt vaguely thought he might have seen it in a corner of Sam’s room one night when Rachel insisted on modeling three identical clingy black dresses for him), and Blaine was perched attentively in front of it while Marley shuffled through a folder of sheet music. 

“Marley’s got some kind of audition and wanted Blaine to help her pick a song,” Sam explained.

Blaine looked up as Kurt approached. “Kurt! Hi!” He popped up off the stool and gave Kurt a slightly off balance hug as Marley looked on shyly. “Kurt, you remember Marley, right?”

“Of course,” Kurt said, extending his hand for Marley to shake, keeping his other hand around Blaine’s waist. He was looking very summery today in a light purple polo and khaki shorts, with a green and blue striped belt. Kurt had taken to tucking a finger into the waistband of Blaine’s shorts when they stood this way, sort of a cross between a caress and a way to hang on to him when he wobbled.

Marley took his hand awkwardly but smiled warmly at him. “Hi, Kurt. It’s really nice to see you.” She looked very pretty in a pale floral dress and blue scarf, but still had that deer in the headlights look about her that Kurt remembered. It was hard to believe she was going to college. New York was going to eat her up.

“What are you auditioning for?” Kurt asked.

“I want to try out for one of the a capella groups at NYU.” Marley tucked her music back into her folder and set her shoulders. “I think Blaine should do it too, but he won’t.”

Kurt glanced at Blaine, who was keeping a decidedly neutral expression on his face. “Nope,” he said simply. “But I promise to come to all your concerts and cheer louder than everyone else.”

Marley opened her mouth to continue the argument but Sam stepped in, putting his arm around her and turning her towards the door. “Didn’t you say you had to meet your friends soon? Let me walk you out.”

“Sorry, Blaine,” she said, giggling as she grabbed her purse and let Sam pull her out of the apartment. “Bye, Kurt!”

Blaine sagged a little against Kurt, and Kurt wrapped both arms around him and gave him a soft kiss. He tasted like lemonade – maybe Sam was playing English butler again today. NYU did have excellent student a capella groups, and Kurt was sure Blaine didn’t need Marley to tell him about them. Blaine had probably already watched all of their videos on you tube and casually re-arranged their numbers to better showcase each member’s voice. Kurt knew why Blaine wouldn’t audition, however, and it didn’t have anything to do with his musicianship. “They’d be lucky to have you,” Kurt whispered in Blaine’s ear. 

Blaine nodded, keeping his head pressed against Kurt’s for a moment, and then straightened up. He tilted his head, as if listening to something. “Do you hear that?”

Kurt couldn’t help but smile at the silly expression on Blaine’s face. “No, I don’t hear anything.”

“It’s a gigantic burger calling your name. Come on, let’s go.”

By the time they were finally seated at the restaurant (which unfortunately was packed full, probably more as a result of the celebrity chef’s name attached to it than the quality of the food), it was almost eight o’clock, and Kurt was starving. They quickly made their selections – Blaine pretending to order a salad before settling on a burger with salsa and cheese, and Kurt not making any attempt to pretend as he ordered one with bacon and barbeque sauce. Luckily their sweet potato fries came quickly, and after a few minutes of focusing on eating, Kurt took a breath and looked at Blaine. “Sorry. I think I can actually carry on a conversation now.”

Blaine laughed, his eyes doing that adorable scrunchy thing. “It’s okay, I know how you get when you’re hungry. By the way, my mom wants to know when you’ll be performing next. She’s sort of fixated on hearing you sing.”

“How did that come up?” 

“I’m not sure, I figured it must have been something you two had discussed when she was here for my surgery. You never did tell me what you guys talked about.”

Kurt smiled and sat up straighter. “Nothing much. Just how your parents will do anything to make you happy, including your mom continuing to be as sweet to me as she always has been.”

“She adores you, Kurt, you know she does.”

“I didn’t really think that adoration would hold up after everything that’s happened.”

“I continue to adore you, why wouldn’t she?” Blaine’s eyes twinkled as he smiled broadly at Kurt.

“There was something else she said, though, that I wanted to pass on. Just in case you hadn’t heard it before,” Kurt began.

“Oh?”

“They really will support you in whatever you do, you know that, right?”

Blaine nodded. “I do, yeah.”

“But your mom said they thought it was too soon, before – the engagement, I mean – but that she thought our relationship could be even stronger now.”

Blaine propped his head on his hand, looking thoughtful. “I’m not surprised they thought it was too soon. Pretty much everyone did. I am kind of surprised she told you that, though.”

“I think she was trying to make me feel better, about us calling it off.”

“Did it work?”

“A little. But I liked the other part even better.”

“That she thinks our relationship could be stronger now?”

Kurt nodded. “Although I guess we have to take that as a given, otherwise we’d be crazy to do this at all. If we didn’t think it would last this time.” Kurt suddenly felt nervous, almost as if he expected Blaine to argue with him. Blaine wanted this to last too, didn’t he?

“Kurt, are you okay?” Blaine slid his chair closer to him and put an arm around his shoulder, pulling him close. “Of course we’re going to be stronger this time. Unbreakable. Like a diamond.”

Kurt let Blaine just hold him for a minute, resting his face against Blaine’s, feeling the light stubble on his cheek. “I think so too.”

They sat up when the waiter brought over their milkshakes, taking turns tasting each of them – Blaine got a vanilla malt, and Kurt opted for chocolate. Kurt cleared his throat. “Speaking of parents, I wanted to ask you something.” Kurt waited while Blaine handed his glass back. “My dad and Carole are going to be at my uncle’s this weekend. Would you want to come visit them with me? My uncle’s house is really nice. He’s got a pool, and a hot tub….” Kurt hoped the offer sounded attractive, and not just like he was hoping Blaine would come with him and break up the possible tension of a weekend with Burt and Carole. Not that there was definitely going to be tension, but there certainly was the last time he had been with the two of them.

“Your dad and Carole both?”

“Yeah. My dad says things are going better between them, and I haven’t seen her in a while, so they thought they’d both come this time.” Kurt bit his lip. His dad still wasn’t being very forthcoming about the problems they were having, and with each phone call, he worried that Burt would tell him that he and Carole were divorcing. He’d lost too many people in his family already, he didn’t want to lose Carole, too, much less think about his dad all alone in Lima.

Blaine put a hand on Kurt’s knee. “I’d love to see them. When would it be, exactly? I’ve got PT Friday morning.”

“I thought we could leave Friday afternoon, spend the weekend, and come back on Sunday. I have to be back for a rehearsal at NYADA Sunday night, so we wouldn’t be coming home late.”

“That sounds great.” A look of concern flashed over Blaine’s face, and he frowned. “Let me just check with Sam?”

“Of course. We can always just go early Saturday morning, instead, if that would work better.” Kurt was on the edge of suggesting that Sam come with them, but he really wanted to have some time just with Blaine. As much as that could be accomplished with his parents and his uncle there, too.

“I think he’ll be okay with it. It’s just, you know…”

“I know. How’s he doing, anyway?”

Blaine brightened up. “So much better. He’s been on the new medication for about ten days now – not long enough yet for any real changes, I think, but enough time for Sam to feel like it’s not going to do anything bad to him. He’s keeping track of how much he sleeps, and whether he has nightmares and how hard it is for him to go back to sleep, and he’s feeling much more in control.”

“I’m so glad,” Kurt said, taking Blaine’s hand. “You look like you’re sleeping better, too.”

“Are you saying I looked tired before? You don’t find those dark circles under my eyes attractive?” Blaine joked.

“I find everything about you attractive,” Kurt reassured him, thinking to himself how ridiculously true this was. He was interrupted in his attempt to seal it with a kiss when their burgers arrived. 

Blaine smiled anyway, and bounced a little in appreciation. “It is true that I’m sleeping better. Both my leg and Sam have been cooperating. I feel like a parent whose baby is finally sleeping through the night.” Blaine paused to cut his burger in quarters, and then carefully maneuver one piece to his mouth. 

“You have a lot of personal experience with babies, do you?”

“None at all,” Blaine said, wiping his mouth with his napkin and grinning. “But Marley’s cousin had a baby last winter, so I’ve heard a lot about it.”

“You and Marley really kept in touch.”

Blaine nodded. “Probably more than with any of the other kids in her year, except for Kitty, but that’s been different. I sort of feel obligated to look out for Marley. I know it might not make any sense, but I kind of identify with her.”

Kurt thought about this for a minute, while he wrestled with his burger and tried not to get any barbeque sauce on his clothes. He thought he knew what Blaine was talking about, but didn’t want to assume. “Tell me more?”

Blaine looked at him uncertainly, then seemed to make up his mind. “We never talked much about when I first went to Dalton.”

“Before you became the Warblers’ sexy lead soloist?”

“Exactly.” Blaine pushed his plate aside and took his glass between both his hands. “I was pretty nervous about going there. I wasn’t sure about what kind of reception I’d get. Plus the work was so much harder than in public school.” Kurt nodded in agreement; he had experienced that shocker first hand. “It took me a while for me to feel like I was good enough to be there, not just some charity case they took in to show how politically correct the school was.”

Kurt covered Blaine’s hands with his. They were cold from the glass, and he rubbed them gently. “That feeling never really goes away, does it?” he asked softly.

Blaine shook his head. “No, not entirely.” He moved his hands off the glass and took Kurt’s in his, gazing at him intently. “It goes up and down, though, for me. And lately, I feel like things are really looking up.”

Kurt thought he was going to melt, with the way Blaine was looking at him. “Me too.” And this time it didn’t matter if the waiter was hovering nearby to clear their plates, or about to serve them free champagne, Kurt was going to kiss the living daylights out of his boyfriend. And he did.

Walking back to Blaine’s apartment that night after dinner was slow going. It was almost three weeks since the surgery, and Blaine had switched to using a cane as of a few days ago. Kurt really didn’t think he was steady enough for it, but Blaine complained like crazy about how the crutches made his underarms sore, and he clearly wasn’t going to use the wheelchair, so Kurt just tried to be patient and stick as close to him as he could.

Kurt could tell Blaine was getting tired and struggling to keep his balance. They were just a block from his apartment, starting to cross the street, when a bike messenger coming around the corner came too close and sideswiped Blaine, knocking him into the road. A cab followed behind the bike, and Kurt felt the world close in around him as it braked, trying to avoid Blaine. He couldn’t see what was happening over the parked car in front of him, but he heard screaming and a car horn. “Blaine!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter will post tomorrow, then there will be a break of a few days around 5x15.


	31. Chapter 31

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> AU after 5x02. When the New Directions’ bus crashes before Nationals, Finn is killed and Blaine is badly injured. Grieving and damaged, Kurt and Blaine call off their engagement. Two years after the tragedy, they run into each other in New York City. Klaine; Blam friendship.
> 
> Warnings for past character death (Finn), discussion of depression, injuries.

_Walking back to Blaine’s apartment that night after dinner was slow going. It was almost three weeks since the surgery, and Blaine had switched to using a cane as of a few days ago. Kurt really didn’t think he was steady enough for it, but Blaine complained like crazy about how the crutches made his underarms sore, and he clearly wasn’t going to use the wheelchair, so Kurt figured he’d just be patient and stick as close to him as he could._

_Kurt could tell Blaine was getting tired and struggling to keep his balance. They were just a block from his apartment, starting to cross the street, when a bike messenger coming around the corner came too close and sideswiped Blaine, knocking him into the road. A cab followed behind the bike, and Kurt felt the world close in around him as it braked, trying to avoid Blaine. He couldn’t see what was happening over the parked car in front of him, but he heard screaming and a car horn. “Blaine!”  
_

Kurt dashed out around the car and saw Blaine sitting in the street with his head in his hands, the side of the cab seemingly inches away from his head. Kurt crashed to his knees in the road, his arms flying around Blaine and pulling him close. He’s not dead he’s not dead he’s not dead ran in a loop through his brain, as he babbled uncontrollably, “oh my god, Blaine, are you okay, are you okay, Blaine, say something, are you okay?” 

The cab driver was talking to them, but Kurt couldn’t pay him any attention, he couldn’t think of anything but what had just happened. He had been sure the cab was going to hit Blaine. There was no way he could have avoided him. He loosened his hold on Blaine to look at his face, Blaine’s eyes wide and panicked but there, open, looking back at him. “Where are you hurt?” Kurt ran his hands over his shoulders and down his arms, over his legs where one knee was scraped and bleeding. A teenage girl was saying something to him, holding Blaine’s cane and one of his boat shoes. He looked blankly at her and she put them down and backed away. Kurt put a hand to Blaine’s cheek and Blaine leaned into it, his eyes fluttering and his chest heaving. Kurt pulled Blaine’s head to his shoulder and scrabbled his hands in his hair, shaking, feeling Blaine pant hot against his neck. 

Finally Blaine took a labored breath and spoke. “Kurt. I’m, I’m okay.” Blaine picked up his shoe and put it on, then grasped the cane. “I want to go home.” Kurt scrambled to his feet and leaned down to loop his arms under Blaine’s and pull him up. Blaine grunted and squeezed his eyes shut but got his feet under him and stood, leaning heavily against Kurt. His polo was wet on the back and down his side, and a piece of Kurt’s brain that apparently never shut off wondered if the oil from the street was going to ruin the shirt. At least it’s not blood, another part of his brain helpfully contributed. A tall woman who had been riding in the cab was saying something about an ambulance and insurance and lawyers and was shoving a card in Blaine’s face but he just turned to Kurt and said again, “I want to go home,” so Kurt pulled Blaine’s arm over his shoulder, planted his arm around his waist, and together they weaved their way through the growing crowd of people in the street, up on to the sidewalk, and continued their path towards Blaine’s apartment. Blaine was trembling and shivering but he kept walking so Kurt kept going too, ignoring the people pushing past them and shooting them dirty looks for walking so slowly. 

Kurt’s heart was still pounding when they reached Blaine’s building, and he pulled Blaine against him in the elevator, clenching his hand in his hair. He could hear their breathing loud in the small space, neither one of them apparently able to do anything but stand there. They stumbled in through the apartment door and before he knew it Sam had Blaine’s other arm and was helping them inside. “I fell, Sam,” Blaine said in a pinched voice, looking up at Sam as he and Kurt lowered him on to the couch. 

“I can tell,” Sam said, sitting down next to him and wrapping his arms loosely around Blaine. “But you got back up, right? You got back up. You’re okay.” Sam rubbed Blaine’s back comfortingly. “You clearly weren’t watching where you were going, B. You have **got** to be more careful.”

Blaine choked out something that resembled a laugh, and dug his forehead into Sam’s shoulder. Kurt was still standing by the couch, frozen, trying to remember what he was supposed to be doing. 

Sam turned and looked at Kurt, touching him on the arm gently. “Kurt? You okay?”

“There was a car. It almost hit him.”

Sam’s face paled. “Shit.” He swallowed hard and continued rubbing Blaine’s back. “Um, why don’t you get the first aid kit? It should be under the sink in the bathroom.” He looked at Blaine’s knee, where the blood was starting to dry. “Maybe a towel and some water, too?”

Kurt made his way to the bathroom, but didn’t look under the sink. Instead he found himself sitting on the closed toilet, trying to catch his breath. He felt like he was about to pass out, and he lowered his head between his knees, willing his heart to slow down. Blaine was fine, he just got knocked down, he was fine. No one was hurt, no one was killed. He kept feeling Blaine being drawn away from him, seeing him go spinning out into the street. Kurt tried to concentrate on his breathing, forcing himself to relax, feeling the air go in and out, in and out. After a while it felt less like he was spinning, and he sat up slowly, his vision clearer now. Kurt found a glass and poured himself some water, drinking it down carefully. He looked into the mirror at his blank expression, still feeling stunned. He splashed some water on his face, ran a comb through his hair, and took a deep breath. He could do this. He wasn’t going to shut down just because he got scared. Blaine got back up, and he could too.

When he came out into the living room with the first aid kit, Blaine’s dirty shirt was off and Sam was wrapping a fleece blanket around him, making him laugh with an impression that seemed to have something to do with mummies, or maybe vampires. It didn’t sound at all familiar to Kurt, but he didn’t really care, as long as it was making Blaine smile.

“Florence Nightingale has arrived,” he announced, hoping no one was going to ask him why it took so long for him to walk to the bathroom and back. Kurt sat down on the ottoman and relaxed a little as Blaine smiled at him. 

“You’re the best looking nurse I’ve ever seen,” Blaine said, reaching out to touch Kurt’s face. “Are you okay?”

“I nearly think I should be asking you that,” Kurt said, searching Blaine’s eyes.

Sam looked at Kurt appraisingly, apparently trying to decide whether he had one patient or two. “Go ahead and wipe up his leg before he gets blood everywhere,” he said lightly. Blaine winced as Kurt started to clean off the scrape on his leg, and Sam put a steadying arm around him. “It’s okay, B., it’s just a scrape.”

“It’s not even very deep,” Kurt said, wiping Blaine’s knee with some alcohol. “It just bled a lot. It’s fine now, though.” He gently spread some ointment over the cuts, and set a large bandaid over it. “I must say, you guys have a very well stocked first aid kit.”

“Yeah, well, Blaine falls all the time, so we have to be prepared,” Sam said with a smile. “Plus I have an unfortunate habit of cutting slices into my fingers.”

“What?”

“Sam likes to eat vegetables, but he’s terrible at cutting them up,” Blaine explained, picking up Sam’s left hand and showing a spot to Kurt. “See? He almost took off the side of this finger.” 

Kurt’s brain really wasn’t able to absorb this right now, so he just nodded and went back to setting the supplies back into the first aid box. He really couldn’t believe Blaine got away with just a scraped knee. “Blaine? Are you sure you aren’t hurt anywhere else?”

Blaine’s face grew more serious, and he glanced at Sam before answering. “I left a message for my doctor, and I’ll go over there in the morning. **In a cab.”** He glanced at Sam again – Kurt guessed there must have been some discussion on this point. “But I didn’t hit my head, and I fell on my left side, not my right. I’m probably going to have some bruises on my hip, and maybe my elbow, but I think that’s it.” Blaine pushed the blanket off and showed Kurt his left arm, and Kurt peered at it, but didn’t see even a scratch.

“You were really lucky,” he said quietly.

Blaine nodded solemnly back. “Yeah, I was.”

Sam stood up, stretching. Kurt realized he was in his sweats and tank top, and was probably half asleep when they burst in. Sam gave Kurt a quick look, then leaned down and kissed Blaine on the head. “I’m going to bed. Good night, guys. Let me know if you need anything, okay?” He patted Kurt on the shoulder, then headed off towards his room. 

Blaine looked at Kurt and stretched out his hand. “Sit with me?”

Kurt moved from the ottoman to the couch, sitting sideways to look at Blaine. “Life is really scary,” he said, not really meaning to say it.

“It is,” Blaine agreed, pulling Kurt up against him. The blanket fell off Blaine’s shoulders and Kurt wrapped his arms around Blaine’s naked back, Kurt’s face pressed into the sweaty skin of his neck. Kurt felt tears leaking out of his eyes, but he couldn’t stop them, and he had lost track of why he should even try. He was shaking, and he vaguely heard Blaine murmuring something that he imagined was supposed to be comforting. Kurt felt Blaine untuck his shirt from his pants and weave his hands in between their bodies to undo the buttons. Kurt just stayed where he was, his head on Blaine's shoulder, absently noticing his tears sliding over Blaine's collarbone. Blaine shifted him gently to pull the shirt off his arms, and pushed against his chest until Kurt was flat on his back on the couch, pulling his legs up so that he lay flat. Blaine slowly lowered himself on top of Kurt, letting his full weight rest on his body, pressing Kurt down into the cushions, his bare skin warm and present against Kurt's. Reaching around, Blaine pulled the blanket on top of them, then framed Kurt's face with his hands, a thumb brushing over his cheekbone. Kurt closed his eyes, letting Blaine ground him, the touch and smell of his boyfriend surrounding him, holding him together. Kurt didn't realize he had stopped crying until he noticed that Blaine was no longer wiping his face, but had relaxed against Kurt’s shoulder, breathing softly against his neck, his arms wrapped around his head and his hands laced into his hair. 

After a while Kurt opened his eyes, and turned to look at Blaine, whose long lashes fluttered as he opened his own eyes in response and tried to focus on Kurt. "Was that a panic attack?" Kurt asked, his voice sounding strange in his ears.

"I don't know," Blaine replied quietly, rubbing a hand over Kurt's arm. 

"Maybe I should talk to Tessa about it?" Kurt hadn't seen his therapist in a few weeks, but he was thinking that he should probably make sure not to miss their next session. 

Blaine nodded. "Couldn't hurt." He leaned up on an elbow, looking at Kurt carefully. "Want to get into bed?"

"Yeah." Kurt waited until Blaine eased himself off of him and onto the ottoman, then stood up and blinked fuzzily at him, waiting for his head to clear. He took Blaine's arm and they slowly walked back to his bedroom. They made it to Blaine's bed, and Kurt rummaged in his dresser for sleep pants for both of them, then went to get Blaine some ibuprofen. 

"Thanks," Blaine said, taking the pill dry; Kurt hadn't brought any water. Probably would have been a good idea, he thought to himself, but Blaine didn't seem to mind. 

Blaine scooted under the blankets and looked up at Kurt, his eyes wide. "Big spoon or little spoon?" Blaine asked. Kurt was still standing by the bed. He saw the pill bottle in his hand, and set it down on the nightstand. "Kurt? Come here now, honey," Blaine said softly but firmly, holding up the edge of the blanket. Kurt slid in, moving close to Blaine until their noses were almost touching. Blaine had a worried frown on his face, and reached out to run his hand down Kurt's arm, wrapping his fingers around his wrist. "Are you okay?"

"I feel weird," Kurt said. Entirely accurate. 

"What can I do?" Kurt didn't know. He just wanted Blaine. 

"Kiss me?" Kurt asked tentatively.

Blaine quickly complied, placing a soft, sweet kiss on Kurt's mouth, barely brushing his lips. He did it again, then again, and finally something unwound inside Kurt and he could kiss Blaine back, his hand going up to grasp Blaine's shoulder, his mouth opening against Blaine's, his tongue tracing his lips. It was slow, and tender, and exactly what Kurt needed. 

He shifted closer to Blaine, tangling their feet together, and reached around to Blaine's back. Kurt loved to rest his hand in that spot where Blaine's back met his waist, just over the curve of his ass. Blaine was a little sweaty under the blanket, but his warmth felt good. Alive. 

Blaine smiled at the touch, and reached up to thread his fingers through Kurt's hair. "How are you feeling now?"

"Honestly?"

"Well, yes," Blaine said, laughing a little.

"Part of me wants to give you the best orgasm you've ever had in your life, but the rest of me just wants to sleep. For about a year." Kurt could feel the heat rise in his face as he said this, but it was the truth.

Blaine laughed for real then, pulling Kurt tight against him and rocking him back and forth. "It's been quite a night, hasn't it," Blaine said, pressing a hard kiss to Kurt's tingling lips and then pulling back to look at him. 

"That it has," Kurt agreed. "And to think that earlier I thought the big emotional drama of the evening was going to be you getting upset when Marley tried to get you to audition with her." Kurt regretted his words as soon as they slipped out of his mouth, but Blaine wasn't bothered.

"Kind of puts things in perspective, doesn't it."

"Yeah." Kurt was about to slide in close for another kiss, when he realized something was different. "Hey. You've been lying on your leg this whole time." Blaine almost never lay on his right side like this, it put too much pressure on his injured leg.

Blaine looked surprised too. "I didn't notice. I guess I wasn't thinking about it." 

Right, you were too busy worried about your boyfriend freaking out. "How does it feel?" Kurt asked. Blaine shifted a little, then rolled back and forth on his leg like he had with Kurt a moment ago, making Kurt laugh. "Don’t do that. If it didn't hurt before, it probably will now."

Blaine looked at him, his face open and happy. "It hardly hurts at all." He pressed a hand down his left side, wincing when he got to his hip. "I think the bruise on my left side hurts more!"

"You realize you're not supposed to be happy about that," Kurt said, smiling at Blaine's glee. "But if you're really okay lying on your side, can I take you up on your offer?"

"What offer?"

"Big spoon." Blaine beamed and nodded, holding still while Kurt climbed over him and curled up behind him. Kurt wedged his right arm up under the pillow and put his left around Blaine. Blaine took Kurt’s hand and pulled it up against his chest as Blaine wiggled backwards, not stopping until he was firmly pressed up against Kurt, his round ass included. "Mmm," Kurt said appreciatively. "You're going to make me regret my decision to go to sleep."

"What can I say, my ass loves you." 

"That’s appropriate, I love it too." Kurt hooked his chin over Blaine's shoulder and leaned over for a kiss. There was definitely an advantage to being taller than your little spoon. "Would it be okay if I hoped that tomorrow is a little less dramatic than today was?"

"Fine with me. Although you might lose your musical theater kid cred."

"What if I sang a song about it, would that help?"

"Depends on the song, I guess. No _Les Mis,_ it's too sad." Blaine giggled. "I know one.” He took a breath and made a face. _”Sleep now little buddy, put your cares away. Nappy with a happy face, tomorrow's a latter day."_

Kurt groaned at the silly Book of Mormon song, but picked up the refrain anyway. _"I am here for you."_

_"I am here for you, too,"_ Blaine chimed in, and they finished together, _"we are here for us."_ Kurt peppered Blaine's face with kisses as Blaine continued to giggle, and then settled back down tight against Blaine's back, breathless for the best of reasons. He felt like he was about to overflow with emotion. 

"Go to sleep already, you goof," Kurt said softly. "I love you like crazy, you know?"

"Love you too, baby. Tomorrow's a latter day." Another giggle escaped from Blaine. 

"Shhh. Sleep."


	32. Chapter 32

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> AU after 5x02. When the New Directions’ bus crashes before Nationals, Finn is killed and Blaine is badly injured. Grieving and damaged, Kurt and Blaine call off their engagement. Two years after the tragedy, they run into each other in New York City. Klaine; Blam friendship.
> 
> Warnings for past character death (Finn), discussion of depression, injuries.

When Blaine woke up the next morning the first thing he noticed was that regardless of whether they had changed positions during the night, Kurt was once again spooned up close behind him, his arm around Blaine’s waist, and his body draped snug along Blaine’s back. And although Kurt’s even breathing indicated that he was still sleeping, at least one part of his body was wide awake. Blaine rapidly assessed the situation, deciding that even if he was a little achy and sore from his fall last night, it wouldn’t interfere with his plans. He wiggled his ass where it pressed against Kurt, and then turned over, breathing into Kurt’s warm neck and sliding a hand down his naked chest to his waist.

“Kurt?” Blaine whispered softly into his ear, and then pressed a kiss just under it. 

“Um? Blaine?” Kurt squirmed under his mouth as he woke up, his mouth falling open with a moan as Blaine sucked a little on that spot by his collarbone that always got him going.

“Kurt? Can I…?” Blaine rubbed his thumb just under the front of Kurt’s waistband, and gazed into his sleepy eyes. While Blaine had fantasized about starting to blow Kurt while he was still asleep, letting Kurt wake up to find his mouth already around him, they hadn’t had nearly enough sleepovers in high school for anything like that to ever happen. Upon consideration, Blaine thought it really was the kind of thing that they should talk about first. Because as sexy as it sounded in theory, Kurt really wasn’t big on surprise touching. 

Kurt blinked a few times, and Blaine kissed him soft on his lips, then harder. Kurt opened his mouth and Blaine sucked on his bottom lip, sliding his hand around to stroke Kurt’s taut stomach, his fingers dipping below Kurt’s waistband again. 

“Blaine, ah, what are you doing?”

“Wanna blow you. Say yes.”

Kurt’s breath was speeding up and his eyes were wide. “Yes, you crazy person.” He grabbed at Blaine’s shoulder as Blaine pushed him on to his back and proceeded to drop kisses down his neck. “Are you okay? You fell, yesterday, you’re not,” Kurt broke off, inhaling sharply as Blaine flicked his tongue over a nipple, “you’re not hurting, or…”

Blaine looked up. “I’m excellent. I’m in bed with my gorgeous boyfriend and I’m planning on making him come his brains out. Anything else you want to ask me before I carry on?”

Kurt rapidly shook his head back and forth. “Nope,” he said, eyes wide. “All good here.”

Later as they lay sated and sticky, curled up together under the sheet, Kurt lazily twirled one of Blaine’s curls around his finger. “You need a haircut.”

“I know. I was thinking I’d go today after the doctor. And PT. Ugh. Too many non-sexy things to do today.”

“I’d say it started off pretty well, though,” Kurt said, smiling that adorable after-sex smile that made Blaine’s heart sing.

“And I would have to agree.” Blaine pressed a kiss to Kurt’s lips, then rolled over to check the clock. “Unfortunately I think I have to get out of bed now. Boo.”

“Do you want me to come to the doctor with you?”

“Don’t you have to go to Vogue today?”

“Yeah, but I can skip it.” Kurt looked entirely willing to do so, but Blaine had to be able to do this kind of thing on his own. He had already agreed to take a cab there, it wouldn’t be that hard.

“No, don’t. I’ll be fine. I should spend some time with Sam today, anyway. I’ll talk to him about going to your uncle’s this weekend.”

“I feel kind of bad about taking you away from him.”

Blaine nodded. “Let me talk to him. If he isn’t okay with it, I won’t go. But I’ll let him decide.”

\----------

Blaine stood in front of his closet, once more debating whether it was a waste of time to choose what he wanted to bring on their trip this weekend before he actually knew whether he was going or not. He had been slouching around the apartment all afternoon, and he was beyond bored. Blaine had planned on spending the afternoon with Sam, maybe even pulling out the video games, but Sam was nowhere to be found.

**From Kurt: The suspense is killing me. What did Sam say?**

**From Blaine: Nothing. He’s still not home.**

**From Kurt: I don’t suppose you could ask him over text?**

**From Blaine: As considerate as that sounds, Sam isn’t answering his texts, and he didn’t pick up when I called, either.**

**From Kurt: Oh.**

**From Kurt: Are you worried?**

**From Blaine: Yes? But not in a creepy, can’t go two hours without talking to him kind of way. Definitely not in that way.**

**From Kurt: Maybe he just lost track of time.**

Doing what? Blaine thought. Sam wasn’t at the gym (and Blaine knew this, because he had called there, casually asking for him), his running sneakers were by the door so he wasn’t out for a run (and he would never go running in the middle of the afternoon in August anyway), he wasn’t at the hospital (his last session playing for the kids was this past Monday, they were on a break for at least the next month until they got settled into the new semester), and he wasn’t with Rachel (yes, he had called her too). Sam wasn’t one for long shopping trips or solitary walks in the park. Blaine simply had no idea where he could be.

And yes, he was a tiny bit worried. Because creepy or not, he always knew where Sam was, and Sam always knew where he was. Ever since they moved to New York together, they were like buddies at a swim lesson – call for one, and the other would answer. They kept each others’ schedules on their phones and gave out each other’s numbers as their emergency contact. Sam stored Blaine’s gym stuff in his locker at work, because Blaine was never there unless Sam was too. Frankly, before Blaine had stopped using the wheelchair in the spring, and even most of the time afterwards, there was little they didn’t do together, Sam pretty much helping Blaine get to wherever he needed to go. 

Of course, then Blaine ran into Kurt at the hospital in June, and everything changed. 

Blaine found himself standing in front of the refrigerator, the door open. It was oddly similar to standing in front of his closet. Maybe he should make Sam dinner. It was only three o’clock, but that would give him plenty of time to do something interesting. He poked around, finding not much except a lot of fruit, some leftover soba, and more condiments than anyone could ever use. Sam had an irrational fear of running out of ketchup. Nothing very inspiring dinner-wise, though. Strawberries, blueberries… Smoothies, he’d make smoothies, those were perfect for a hot summer afternoon. Sam loved smoothies. A little voice in his head told him that smoothies would neither make Sam miraculously appear nor fix whatever mysterious problem he thought was keeping Sam out of the apartment, but he pushed the thought away and began washing the strawberries.

Twenty minutes later, Blaine was curled up on the couch, his guitar lying on the ottoman. He tried to strum it with a bare toe, which, not surprisingly, really didn’t work. The smoothies he had made were delicious, but Sam still wasn’t home. He was just about to give up and call the gym again (maybe that guy at the front desk was wrong, and Sam really was working now, despite the fact that he wasn’t scheduled to work until tomorrow) when he heard a key in the lock.

“Hey, Blaine,” Sam said, dropping his keys on the table and heading straight down the hall.

“Sam?” Blaine couldn’t even get up off the couch in time to see him before he disappeared into the bathroom. A few minutes later, Sam came out, and dashed back into his room. Blaine picked up his cane and followed him, pausing at the doorway when he realized Sam was changing his clothes.

“Do you know where my blue shorts are? The ones with the white stripe?”

“In the laundry, I think.”

“Oh well.” Sam pulled on a clean shirt and grabbed his gym bag. “The stinky ones in my locker will have to do.” 

“Are you going to work? I thought you didn’t have a shift until tomorrow.”

“I switched my shift.” Sam finally paused long enough to meet Blaine’s eyes, and must have seen something there he didn’t expect. “Dude, are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. I just thought we could hang out today, that’s all.” His voice came out thin and strange, and Sam didn’t miss it. Sam sat down on the edge of his bed and patted the spot next to him, and so Blaine sat down, twirling his cane between his hands.

“Blaine, what’s wrong?” Sam looked at him with such genuine concern, Blaine thought he was going to lose it right there. What the hell was wrong with him? He was acting like he was in middle school again and the popular boys had just decided he was too weird to associate with anymore. There was no need for this drama with Sam. But the words popped out anyway.

“I texted you, and called you, and you didn’t answer.” 

Sam immediately looked guilty. “Shit, Blaine, I’m sorry. My phone’s not charged.” Sam fished his phone out of his pocket and showed Blaine.

“I didn’t know where you were.”

Sam looked down at his knees and took a deep breath. “IhadadatewithCora.”

“What?” Sam? A date?

“I had a date with Cora, Kurt’s friend with the red hair that we met at that NYADA thing? Just a coffee date. I didn’t think we’d be there all afternoon, but we just kept talking...” 

“Really? Wow, that’s, that’s great.” Blaine realized his voice didn’t really sound like he thought it was great, but at least he was getting words out.

“Yeah, it was pretty awesome.” Sam looked shyly proud of himself. But instead of being happy for his friend, Blaine’s brain continued on its road to doomsville.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” How could Sam have a date with Cora and he didn’t know? And for god’s sake, if his voice didn’t get back down to its normal register he was going to strangle someone.

Now the proud look was gone and Sam just looked upset. “I’m sorry.”

Get a grip, Blaine. “No, it’s okay, Sam, it’s cool.” He put a hand on Sam’s shoulder and was relieved when he didn’t flinch. Blaine took a breath and tried to summon his dignity back from wherever it had scurried away. “You don’t have to tell me everything.” Which was ridiculous, really, because they always told each other everything. But maybe that era was over. Maybe Blam had run its course.

“I was going to tell you. But you were really busy –“

With Kurt. This was his own fault.

“-this morning with all your doctor’s appointments, and I just asked her yesterday, right before Marley came over, and we totally spent the whole day with Marley, and then last night everything was so awful when you came home, after that car almost hit you and everything, I was so worried about both of you guys, I just forgot.”

Sam looked so sincere, and so sad, his eyes wide and his mouth trembling. Blaine was an idiot -- Sam was his best friend, not some fourteen year homophobe who was going to abandon him when something better came along. He dropped his cane on the floor and pulled Sam into a tight hug. “I’m sorry, I just freaked out a little.” He rubbed Sam’s back until he relaxed, and then pulled back and looked at him. “Forgive me?”

“Of course, dude.” Sam still looked confused, and Blaine didn’t blame him, he had clearly overreacted. “I’m sorry we didn’t get to hang out today, that would have been cool.” Sam tilted his head back and sighed dramatically. “And now you’re really going to be mad.”

“Mad? Why?”

“Well, it’s kind of spur of the moment, but Cora asked me to go to the Hamptons with her this weekend. That guy Nate’s parents have a house out there and a bunch of their friends are going. That’s why I switched my shift at the gym to tonight, so I could go with her tomorrow.”

The irony of the situation was glaring. “Wait,” Blaine said, trying not to have too much fun with this, given that he really owed Sam a break given the emotional shit show he had just put on, “you’re going to leave me alone all weekend? When were you planning on telling me this, Sam Evans?”

Sam’s face fell, but then he glanced at Blaine and saw the grin pulling at his cheeks and quickly recovered. “I don’t know, maybe I figured you’d probably be too busy giving your boyfriend a blow job to notice.” Sam grinned evilly and jumped away as Blaine tried to push him off the bed. 

“No fair, you said you couldn’t hear us!” Blaine reached for his cane and tried to swat Sam, but Sam just moved back.

“Excuse me for not having my headphones on at seven o’clock in the morning.” 

Blaine knew his face had to be bright red, but he couldn’t let Sam get the best of him here. “Hey, at least we gave you something entertaining to wake up to.”

“True enough. I had no idea Kurt’s voice could get so low and scratchy. Wait, is that from-“

“Enough, enough!” Blaine prayed Sam would never relay this conversation to Kurt, or there would be no more sexytimes in his apartment, that was for sure. Sam was laughing so hard that tears were running down his cheeks. Apparently Sam decided that Blaine needed to suffer too, and pounced on him, knocking Blaine back on the bed and tickling him mercilessly until he curled up into a ball in defense. 

They lay on Sam’s bed for a while, giggling and panting. Finally Blaine could breathe again, and he unwound and turned towards Sam. “I was actually going to get out the video games this afternoon.”

Sam tucked his arm up under his head and gave Blaine a smirk. “Something you wanted to talk to me about?”

Blaine nodded. “Kurt asked me to spend the weekend with him at his uncle’s house in New Jersey. Burt and Carole are going to be there.”

“No way.” Sam laughed. “So you were going to abandon me, not the other way around.”

“I would never have gone unless you were okay with it,” Blaine said seriously. “I mean it.”

“I know.” Sam pressed his lips together, considering. “You can go. I’ll be okay.”

“Hey! You won’t even be home!”

Sam laughed again. “You never know. I might need you to wait around here all weekend, just in case I needed to come back early or something.” Blaine shoved Sam in the shoulder but Sam just grabbed his hand and pinned it to the bed. “It’s really cute when you try to push me around, you know.”

“Jerk.”

Sam kept his hand pressing down against Blaine’s, and looked right at him. “It’s different, us not being together all the time, isn’t it?”

“Yeah.” Blaine took a breath. “Sam, I’m really sorry I freaked out on you. You’ve been dealing with me and Kurt doing things without you all summer, and the first afternoon I have to entertain myself I lose it.”

“It’s not just being bored, though, is it?”

Blaine shook his head. “No, it’s not. It kind of feels like the end of something.”

Sam sat up, affronted. “If you say it’s the end of Blam, I’m going to punch you. Didn’t you tell me you weren’t going to dump me for Kurt?”

Blaine nodded, his throat tight.

“And you didn’t. So what makes you think I’d dump you for Cora, or anyone else? Just because we aren’t always hanging out together doesn’t mean anything will change. Not anything that matters. Okay?” Blaine nodded again and Sam pulled him into a hug. “I love you, dude. That’s not going to change.”

“Thanks, Sam.” He squeezed him harder. “I love you too.” Blaine took a deep breath and sat back, trying to think of something normal to talk about. “Well, why don’t you tell me all of the details of your date with Cora? Give me the blow by blow.”

“Blaine! Didn’t you get enough of that from Kurt?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We’re almost at the end of the journey. Two long chapters coming up, and then an epilogue. Thank you for reading and commenting!


	33. Chapter 33

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> AU after 5x02. When the New Directions’ bus crashes before Nationals, Finn is killed and Blaine is badly injured. Grieving and damaged, Kurt and Blaine call off their engagement. Two years after the tragedy, they run into each other in New York City. Klaine; Blam friendship.
> 
> Warnings for past character death (Finn), discussion of depression, injuries.

Blaine stood on the street outside his building, his overnight bag looped over his shoulder and his cane gripped firmly in his left hand. Until a little while ago he had thought they were taking the train to New Jersey, but then Kurt texted and told him that he had borrowed Cora’s car again. It was a sweltering afternoon, and although Blaine had waited until the last minute to come downstairs, he was already feeling pretty gross, sweat dripping down his back between his shoulder blades. Even his feet felt hot in his boat shoes. Hopefully Kurt was right about them being able to use his uncle’s pool – today was definitely a perfect day for it.

Before he knew it he was seated in Cora’s thankfully air conditioned Camry, music playing and Kurt driving confidently over yet another scary bridge. The traffic was dense – it seemed like everyone in New York was fleeing the city, hoping to take advantage of one of the last weekends of the summer, heading for the beach or the mountains or anywhere where you could get a breath of fresh air. Blaine wondered how Sam was doing. Nate had come by that morning to pick him up, Cora and another girl already in the car. It was weird to him that Sam was going away for the weekend with a bunch of strangers. Kurt had reassured him a little bit - he had gotten to know Cora fairly well over the summer, and he thought she seemed like a good person, if a little overdramatic at times, as suited a NYADA rising star. At least Sam had a lot of experience dealing with divas. McKinley had apparently prepared him well for that, if nothing else.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Kurt asked as they sped up, apparently finding a break in the traffic somewhere on the New Jersey Turnpike. 

“Just thinking about Sam on the beach.”

“Nice thoughts?” Kurt asked with a smirk.

Blaine laughed. “Believe me, I’ve seen the best and the worst of Sam Evans over the past few years. He isn’t just chiseled muscles and pouty lips.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. He trims his toenails just like everyone else. And it took him forever to cut his hair. He still had that awful ponytail when he showed up in Lima.”

“Not my favorite look for Sam.”

“Me neither.”

“How’d you get him to cut it off?” Kurt asked, pausing for a minute to check the GPS.

“Why do you think it was me?” 

“Come on, really?”

“Okay, fine. I did beg him to cut it.” Blaine smiled, remembering the conversation. “In exchange, he made me promise never to use hair gel anymore, at least not like I used to. I hadn’t been using it much anyway, but I think he was afraid I was going to revert once I had a reason to get out of bed.”

“Never? Seems kind of harsh. Aren’t there any exceptions to the rule?”

Blaine blushed. “Actually, there are.”

Kurt turned and looked at him, and Blaine covered his face. “That is not where I thought this was going,” Kurt said. “Now I’m scared to ask.”

“No, it’s not anything like **that.** It’s just embarrassing.” Blaine gazed at Kurt, so beautiful in profile as he concentrated on the road ahead of them. “The deal was I’m allowed to use as much as I want when I get dressed up, or for performances. Or if I thought I was going to see you.”

“If you were going to see me? Why?”

“I didn’t know if you’d like it this way,” Blaine waved a hand towards his head, his curls held loosely in place with just some light product. “You liked me when it was the old way. I figured if I was ever going to see you again, at a Glee club reunion or something, I wanted to look the same.”

“But then I caught you by surprise, sans gel.”

“You did.” Blaine reached over and squeezed Kurt’s leg. “I guess it turned out okay, right?”

“Yes, it definitely did.” Kurt smiled.

They settled into companionable silence, Blaine fiddling with the music on his phone until he had an appropriately summery driving mix arranged. He had almost started to doze off when Kurt pulled off the road into a small shopping center, dotted with cute little stores and quaint benches. 

“We’re not far from my uncle’s house.” Kurt said. “The bakery over there has the most wonderful éclairs. Pies, too. Let’s go pick out something decadent.”

A few minutes later, laden with bakery boxes, they headed back to the car. As they approached, Kurt gave Blaine an appraising look, then stopped him with a hand on his arm. “Want to drive?”

Blaine’s stomach flipped as he realized that Kurt had probably set up their whole day just for this moment. “Is this why we didn’t take the train?” he asked.

Kurt shrugged, a little smile tugging at his mouth. “Maybe.”

Blaine took a deep breath. “Okay. I’ll try. But no promises.” He took the keys from Kurt and got into the driver’s seat, carefully stretching his leg out to the gas pedal. Without turning the car on, he pushed against the pedal a few times, then moved his foot over to the brake. He glanced up at Kurt, who was watching him patiently.

“How’s it feel?”

“Still a little stiff. But it doesn’t really hurt much.” Blaine pressed on, adjusting the mirrors, then turned to face Kurt again. “I used to get really bad cramps in my thigh, the muscles would just totally seize up. But that hasn’t happened in a while.”

“If it doesn’t feel right, just pull over. It’s pretty quiet around here, we don’t need to get back on the highway or anything.”

“Okay.” Blaine turned on the car and slowly backed out of the parking space. Kurt gave him directions as he eased out on to the street, driving through the center of the little town. God, it felt good to drive again. His leg hurt a little more when he pressed on the brake at a traffic light, and he had a flashback to one memorable wipe out while skiing years ago when, at the end of a long day, his legs were too tired to execute a turn properly. None of that now, he thought, concentrate. At the next light, he glanced over at Kurt, who was looking back at him out of the corner of his eye, a soft smile on his face.

“How’s it going?” Kurt asked.

“It’s good,” Blaine said, nodding. “Really good.”

After about ten minutes, as they drove through a pretty neighborhood bursting with greens and flowering bushes, Blaine pulled over.

“Are you okay? We’re just a few blocks away,” Kurt asked, suddenly concerned.

“I’m fine. I just need to do something.” Blaine reached across the console and wrapped his arms around Kurt, holding him as tight as he could given the angle. “Thank you,” he breathed into his neck. He still could hardly believe the trouble Kurt had gone to just to give him a chance to drive again. Just one more thing that Kurt Hummel had brought back into his life.

Kurt relaxed into Blaine’s arms and squeezed back. “You’re welcome.” 

\----------

Burt was sitting on the front steps of his brother’s house as the car pulled up and parked at the end of the driveway. He saw Blaine get out of the driver’s side, and Kurt skip over to him, giving him a hug and then handing him his cane. Blaine was whispering something in Kurt’s ear and Kurt was tucking his arm around Blaine’s waist, smiling at whatever sweet message Blaine was no doubt imparting. It reminded Burt of when his boy was in high school, back before distance and tragedy had separated him from his first love, when every moment was filled with the opportunity to spend it with Blaine. Maybe this was like a second (or third?) honeymoon period for them, their relationship new and shiny with promise. He only hoped that this time it would mature into something they could hang on to. 

Burt could tell exactly when Kurt noticed Burt watching them, as he gave Burt a happy nod, then took his boyfriend’s arm and headed towards the house. But instead of his son’s usual impatient stride, he and Blaine walked slowly, Kurt glancing up at Burt occasionally, but also seemingly enjoying the short walk, looking at the flowers along the front border and stopping to turn and point out the park down the street.

Slow or not, Blaine was walking, and as he approached, Burt couldn’t help but think of the last time he saw him. Blaine’s parents had thrown a party for him and Sam before they left for New York, with music playing in their backyard and barbeque on the grill. Burt had only stayed for a little while, sitting and talking with Blaine who, in his wheelchair, tried valiantly to keep his game face on as various New Directions kids played with the karaoke machine, dancing and singing along whether it was their turn or not. Sam had been keeping a close eye on Blaine, stopping by frequently with snacks and stories, but even he couldn’t change the fact that Blaine wasn’t going to be step touching that day. 

Burt groaned as he stood up, then closed the distance between himself and the boys. 

“You made it,” he said warmly as he pulled Kurt into a hug. Kurt hugged firmly back. Burt was continually surprised at how tall his son was, even though he had been this height for years now. Time was funny that way.

He let go of Kurt and turned to Blaine, who was smiling shyly. “It’s really good to see you, Burt,” Blaine said, sticking out his hand.

“Oh, come here, kid,” Burt scoffed, giving Blaine a hug. He stepped back, keeping his hands on Blaine’s shoulders and looking him up and down. “You look good.” He really did, Burt thought. Blaine was tan, and fit, but more than that, he looked happy. He glanced at Kurt, who had a similarly smitten look on his face. Ah, young love, he thought, how nice to see you again. “Leg feeling better these days?”

“Much better, thanks.”

“All right. Let’s go inside. Carole’s gonna be thrilled to see you two.”

\----------

Later that night, Blaine and Kurt were alone in the pool, hanging on to an inflatable raft with just their heads and arms out of the water. They were drifting contentedly, able to chat lazily and trade chlorine-flavored kisses, without having to move very much. Despite the fact that the sun had set, it was still ridiculously hot, and they weren’t willing to expend any more energy than necessary. 

Blaine thought the visit was going well so far. It was wonderful to see Burt and Carole again, and the two of them seemed to be on good terms – if Kurt hadn’t told him they’d been having problems, he never would have known. He hoped Burt would give Kurt a little more information, he knew how nervous it made Kurt not to know what was going on. Carole had seemed pleased by the box of chocolate mice from Burdick’s that Blaine had brought her, and they had a good conversation about all the neat little places Blaine and Sam had discovered in their neighborhood. Kurt’s uncle Howard was a quieter version of Burt, even down to his penchant for baseball caps. He didn’t say much during dinner, but turned out to have a wicked sense of humor when he and Burt got into a splash fight in the pool. No one had mentioned Finn, which was kind of awkward, but Blaine figured he’d just go with the flow. He might bring it up with Kurt later, if an appropriate opportunity came up.

Kurt shifted on the raft and looked at his hands, rubbing his fingers together. “I’m turning into a prune. Want to head up? I checked out our room when I brought the bags up, the a/c is working pretty well.”

“Sure.” Blaine picked up one of Kurt’s hands and brought it to his mouth, kissing his wrinkly fingertips. “You sure everyone’s okay with us sharing a room?”

“I think Howard just assumed we would. He’s always been cool with me, you don’t need to worry about him.”

“He seems like a nice guy.”

“He is. I’m glad you got to meet him. I didn’t really get to know him very well until I moved to New York. For some reason, he was never that interested in visiting Lima.”

“Gee, how strange.”

Kurt gave Blaine a drippy kiss on the cheek and then slid off the raft, hanging on to it with one hand and kicking until they were in the low end. He wrapped his arms around Blaine from behind and draped his body over him as they swayed in the water. Blaine hummed at the feel of Kurt’s warm skin up against his own, and turned his head for a few more kisses before he stood up. “Okay, let’s go.”

They were staying in a small guest room over the garage, low on style but high on privacy. The only access was an outside staircase which Blaine had yet to try, but he figured if he took it slowly enough he’d be okay. As he pulled himself out of the pool, however, feeling heavy as he came up out of the water, he realized how tired he was. A day of swimming in the hot sun had apparently taken more out of him than he had thought. Blaine sat down at the edge of the pool and considered his options. “Maybe we could just sleep out here?” he asked jokingly. “Those lounge chairs were pretty comfortable this afternoon.”

Kurt grabbed their towels from a chair and handed one to Blaine, sitting down next to him and kicking his feet back and forth in the water. “If you’re worried about getting up there, we can always camp out on the living room floor.” Kurt rubbed his hair dry with the towel. It was so unusual to see Kurt this way, so relaxed and unstyled, yet so clearly content. “But there’s a really big, comfortable bed up in that room. And what looks like a really nice shower.”

“You’ll help me with the stairs?” Blaine asked shyly.

“Of course,” Kurt said, pushing a damp curl off Blaine’s forehead and giving him a kiss. “The bed wouldn’t be nearly as comfortable without you in it.”

\----------

Saturday was just as scorchingly hot as Friday, and after spending most of the day by the pool, everyone retreated inside to the air conditioning for afternoon naps. Kurt and Blaine curled up on the couch together, idly watching How I Met Your Mother reruns until they fell asleep. When Blaine woke up, Kurt was gone, but Blaine could hear him talking softly in the kitchen. It sounded like he was with Burt. Blaine turned over and dozed for a while more, not wanting to disturb their conversation, but eventually his foot cramped and he had to get up. As he passed by the kitchen on the way to the bathroom, he heard his name, and despite himself, stopped to listen.

“I don’t know what to do about Blaine. The summer’s almost over, and things just aren’t going to be the same.”

Blaine felt his stomach twist and he put a hand on the wall for support. What was Kurt talking about?

“What does this have to do with your audition?” Burt asked.

“Between school and a show, every minute is full. Remember when I was in Mormon? I didn’t even come home for Christmas. I just don’t think I can do another show and have a boyfriend.”

Someone in the kitchen scraped their chair backwards as they stood up and Blaine pushed off the wall, limping as fast as he could to the hall bathroom and shutting the door quickly behind him. His heart was racing and he felt like he was going to faint. Was Kurt breaking up with him? Everything had seemed to be going so well. Why would he bring him out here to see Burt and Carole if they were breaking up? That just couldn’t be what was going on. And what audition were they talking about?

He took a few deep breaths and splashed some water on his face. He and Kurt were good together, he knew it. They had shared so much this summer, revealed so much of themselves to each other. They were building something new, together, despite all the pain they had gone through. Kurt wouldn’t just throw that away (he did before, but that was different, don’t think about that). Blaine had to get a grip and just talk to him about it. It would all make sense if they just talked it through, it had to.

Although, now that he thought about it, Kurt’s concerns about performing had been on their “things to talk about” list from the beginning, and yet it had never come up. Blaine hadn’t thought about that list for weeks. It had seemed sort of like a defense mechanism at the time, a way to manage all the scary stuff that they needed to address in order to start fresh. But somehow this issue had managed to stay off the agenda. Maybe it was more serious than Blaine had realized. 

Blaine was quiet all through dinner, and stayed out of the evening debate about what game to play afterwards. They finally settled on Taboo, which was usually one of Blaine’s favorites, but he just couldn’t get into it. He kept remembering Kurt saying “I just don’t think I can do another show and have a boyfriend,” as if he were a part-time job or a time-consuming extracurricular. After they said their good nights, Blaine slipped out of the house while Kurt was talking to Carole about breakfast, and dragged himself up the stairs to their room over the garage. He was already changed and in bed when Kurt came in.

“There you are. Why’d you come up without me?”

Blaine shrugged. “Just tired.”

Kurt gave him an odd look but didn’t engage. He took his toiletry bag into the bathroom and closed the door, and Blaine could tell he was rushing through his moisturizing routine from how quickly the snap of one bottle followed the next. Calm down, Blaine, he told himself. Nothing is wrong here, it’s going to be fine. Just talk to him. A year and a half of therapy and he was well aware that communication was one of his biggest problems, but it really didn’t make it any easier to do it right. Now he just realized when he was doing it wrong. He would laugh if he didn’t feel so ill. 

Kurt came out of the bathroom, somehow managing to look stylish and graceful even though he was only wearing a t-shirt and sleep pants. He came over to the bed but didn’t lie down. Instead he sat facing Blaine, folding his legs up under him, and pulled a pillow on to his lap.

“Is something wrong?” Kurt’s voice was gentle, not at all angry despite the weird vibe Blaine knew he must have been giving off all night.

You tell me, he wanted to snap, but he held it back and took a deep breath, pushing himself up to sit mirroring Kurt. He rubbed the back of his neck, afraid to say anything, but knowing he had to. “I overheard you talking to your father about an audition?” Blaine struggled to keep his voice from shaking.

Kurt looked surprised, like this wasn’t what he thought Blaine was going to say. “Um, yeah. Pippin’s run got extended, and they’re looking to add a few ensemble members.” Suddenly Kurt must have remembered the rest of the conversation, and his face dropped. “Wait, what else did you hear?” His gentle demeanor had disappeared, replaced by a much more defensive stance. It was classic Kurt, and Blaine tried not to read anything into it.

“Not much. But it seemed liked you were making a choice.” 

“I am. It’s the only one that makes any sense.”

Blaine turned away, trying to catch his breath. How could Kurt just sit there so calmly and break up with him? What did he do wrong this time?

“Blaine, why are you so upset about this?” Kurt sounded more annoyed than concerned, and Blaine couldn’t take it anymore.

“Look, I know summer’s over and everything, but I had no idea you thought this was just some fling. I guess you are going to be an excellent actor, though, Kurt, because I really believed this was real. And I think I’m allowed to be upset about you breaking up with me.”

“Blaine, you idiot.” Kurt came up on his knees and grabbed Blaine by the shoulders. “What the hell are you talking about? I love you. I’m not breaking up with you.”

Blaine glanced at Kurt’s eyes, sincere and confused. “You’re not? But you told your dad it wasn’t going to work, being cast in a show and having a boyfriend.”

“It wouldn’t. And that’s why I’m not going to the audition.”

Blaine froze. “So you’re going to give up performing because of me?”

“It’s not just about you, Blaine,” Kurt said tightly. “You don’t understand. This isn’t my first time around. I spent almost a year doing nothing but going to class, rehearsals, and performances. If I wasn’t at NYADA, I was at the theater. Doing my homework when I wasn’t on stage, going over cues when I was supposed to be paying attention in class. Feeling like I wasn’t good enough at either one. It was exhausting.”

“But you said NYADA students do it all the time, they just reduce their work load, or take a semester off. You can’t stop performing, Kurt, you love it. It’s who you are.”

Kurt shoved himself off the bed and walked over to the window, looking out over the yard. “I didn’t expect this from you. I thought you of all people would understand. I thought you were on my side.”

“Kurt, I am on your side. Of course I am. But there’s got to be a way to balance all the things you want in your life. You shouldn’t have to give up your dream–“

“You’re not listening to me.” Kurt grabbed his shoes from where he had left them by the door and turned to Blaine. “I’m going for a walk. Don’t wait up.” He was out the door before Blaine could even push himself off the bed.

Blaine considered going after him, but falling down the staircase in an attempt to catch up probably wouldn’t help matters any. Not exactly a grand romantic gesture. He shook his head, trying to figure out how what started off with Kurt saying he wasn’t breaking up with him turned into a fight. 

Kurt’s phone was still in the charger on the dresser, so texting him wouldn’t do any good. Blaine got his own phone from his overnight bag and then slid under the covers, hesitating briefly before typing out a text.

**From Blaine: You busy?**

**From Sam: Nope. You?**

Blaine laughed despite the catch in his throat. If he was busy, why would he have texted Sam? 

**From Blaine: No. How’s the beach party?**

**From Sam: Cora and her friend Minnie had too much to drink and are sleeping it off. I’m playing the guitar.**

**From Blaine: Sorry. You can go back to entertaining the masses.**

**From Sam: No, I was just playing around. Everyone else is either asleep or paired up. Except Nate, I think he went to get more booze. Which we really don’t need.**

**From Blaine: I miss you.**

Nope, he wasn’t too dependent on Sam at all. Not at all.

**From Sam: Everything okay?**

**From Blaine: I had a fight with Kurt. First I thought he was going to break up with me, but he wasn’t. But then we had a fight anyway.**

**From Sam: About what?**

**From Blaine: I’m still trying to figure it out. We were talking about him auditioning for Pippin, and he didn’t want to, and I said he should, and he said I wasn’t listening to him. And then he walked out.**

**From Sam: Well, were you listening to him?**

Blaine started to type his answer, then paused. He had heard Kurt’s words, of course, but he didn’t give them much weight, because Kurt couldn’t be right about not wanting to perform. Could he?

**From Blaine: Maybe I wasn’t.**

**From Sam: Guess you know what to do next time.**

**From Blaine: I wish you were here. I need a hug.**

**From Sam: Even the power of your amazing charm can’t make that work tonight, dude. But if I was there, I’d give you an awesome hug.**

**From Blaine: Thanks, Sam.**

**From Sam: Remember he really loves you, okay? It’s going to be all right. See you tomorrow?**

**From Blaine: See you tomorrow.**

Blaine slid further under the covers, his back turned towards the door, a pillow scrunched up under his head. He knew Kurt loved him, but it felt like Kurt was making decisions without clueing him in to what was really going on. And maybe he wasn’t listening properly to Kurt, but then Kurt was the one who cut off their conversation and walked out. He went round and round with it all until his head hurt and he wasn’t sure whether he was awake or dreaming. He thought he had finally almost fallen asleep when he heard Kurt come back in the room. Blaine wanted to talk to him or reach out to him but he didn’t, he just lay there, frozen, hoping Kurt would say something or at least put his arms around him. But Kurt didn’t, either.


	34. Chapter 34

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> AU after 5x02. When the New Directions’ bus crashes before Nationals, Finn is killed and Blaine is badly injured. Grieving and damaged, Kurt and Blaine call off their engagement. Two years after the tragedy, they run into each other in New York City. Klaine; Blam friendship.
> 
> Warnings for past character death (Finn), discussion of depression, injuries.

The next morning was awkward, to say the least. Blaine and Kurt barely exchanged a word before they came down for breakfast, and while Blaine was helping Carole with the dishes, Kurt loaded up the car with their bags, telling everyone he needed to get back early for school. Even the half-eaten chocolate mice looked more convincingly cheerful than the four of them. Blaine didn’t even get to say goodbye to Howard, who had slept in, missing the morning drama.

This time Kurt didn’t offer to let Blaine drive. The atmosphere in the car was bordering on suffocating, and so when they drove down the main street of the little town, approaching the train station, Blaine forced words out of his mouth. “Let me out here. I’ll take the train back.”

Kurt gave Blaine a piercing look, and continued on.

“Kurt?”

“Don’t be childish. You’re not taking the train.”

Great. Now on top of being an idiot, and not on his boyfriend’s side, and not listening, he was childish. 

“Kurt, I’m sorry, can we just talk about this?”

Of course he didn’t manage to spit out this piece of original dialogue until Kurt was merging on to the turnpike just ahead of a giant eighteen wheeler. Kurt’s only response was another angry glare.

Finally they were back in the city, inching towards Blaine’s apartment. Blaine texted Sam, but he wasn’t home yet – they hadn’t even left. He didn’t envy him that traffic filled drive back in from the Hamptons, although at least he wouldn’t be trapped in a car with Kurt. Blaine knew it was just a mood, but it still wasn’t much fun. As they pulled up in front of Blaine’s building Kurt double parked and jumped out, grabbing Blaine’s bag from the backseat. Blaine had barely steadied himself on the sidewalk when Kurt slammed into him, hugging him so hard he almost couldn’t breathe. “I love you,” Kurt murmured into his hair, then dashed back into the car and drove away, leaving a very confused Blaine staring after him.

\----------

That afternoon, as Kurt paced around his apartment, the texts started coming.

**From Blaine: I love you too.**

**From Blaine: Where did you go last night? I was worried about you. Did you go to the park?**

Nothing got by Blaine, Kurt thought to himself. Blaine had probably figured out that Kurt probably hadn’t gone back into his uncle’s house, because if he had, Kurt would have talked to his dad, and Burt never would have let him get away with this ridiculousness.

**From Blaine: I woke up when you came in. I should have said something, but I was scared. But you could have said something too.**

**From Blaine: I know you might not be reading these, but I’m thinking about you. I’m always thinking about you.**

**From Blaine: Sam got the worst sunburn on the tops of his feet. He’s still in the car on the way back, by the way. But he texted me a picture.**

Blaine continued on in this vein, live texting his day to Kurt, apparently undeterred by the fact that Kurt wasn’t responding. God, Blaine knew him so well. Kurt’s mind was too muddled to talk to Blaine right now, but the stream of texts grounded him, reminding him that Blaine was still there, whether Kurt could respond or not.

**From Blaine: Remember that day in the McKinley courtyard when I told you that you were a star? You are, Kurt. I don’t know what you’re afraid of, but you are a star. You always will be, whether it’s at NYADA, or on Broadway, or just in our living room. I love you so much.**

“ _Our_ living room,” indeed. Did Blaine even realize he wrote that? How could he be so sure of them even when they were fighting? Were they even fighting? There was no way Kurt could let this one go unanswered.

**From Kurt: I love you too. A crazy amount.**

**From Kurt: I have to go to NYADA now to rehearse for the freshman orientation show. Talk later.**

As soon as he hit send, he realized his mistake. “Talk later,” he had said, when he most definitely didn’t want to talk later. Just like that first conversation with Blaine at the hospital back in June when, dizzy with Blaine’s presence, he had promised to talk later, before knowing what on earth he was going to say. But this time was different. He thought he had a choice to make, but it wasn’t looking very black and white anymore, and he didn’t know what to do.

And once again, Blaine had hit the rhinestone squarely on its bedazzled head. Kurt was afraid. Heart stoppingly, paralyzingly afraid. A few months after he and Blaine had called off their engagement, Kurt had fortuitously landed a part in the chorus of Book of Mormon. Blaine was right, of course, he loved performing, with every bone in his body. Kurt cringed when he remembered how sharp he had been with Blaine last night when Blaine insisted that it was who he was. But Kurt thought he had explained this to Blaine, that he had understood that even when you had what everyone thought would make you happy, what you yourself had assumed would make you happy, it didn’t necessarily turn out that way.

When he got the part in Mormon, Kurt threw himself into the role, and very soon was contentedly drowning in it. Because between the show and school, he was able to fill every waking minute with work, leaving no time to think about losing Finn, or his father’s health problems, or Blaine. And if as a result he also didn’t have time for socializing, or even visiting his dad, well, that’s what being a working actor was all about. 

The fact that having his Broadway dream come true didn’t automatically make him happy had taken a while to dawn on him. Instead of dancing through life, he was sleepwalking, and he didn’t know how to wake up. But this summer, miraculously finding Blaine, reconnecting with Rachel, seeing a different side to Sam, and even feeling like he was making a new friend in Cora, well, this was more than wonderful. It was like walking through a doorway into a new life, one sprinkled liberally with laughter, and hope, and joy. It was Oz, brightly colored and full of song. Not scripted songs, sung over and over by rote, but heartfelt serenades and whispered lullabies. And the thought of losing that – especially of losing Blaine again - terrified him.

Kurt eventually headed over to NYADA for rehearsal, welcoming the break from the thoughts careening around each other in his head. But no sooner had he run through the first piece and sat down to wait for his next number to be called than the whole mess was thrown in his face again.

“Kurt and I probably won’t be here for the performance, so you might want to choose a backup for our roles,” Cora was explaining to Madame Tibideaux, who raised an eyebrow in response. “We’re auditioning for Pippin tomorrow, and the callbacks are Tuesday.”

Madame Tibideaux had the slightly pained look she often adopted when faced with Cora’s declarations, but her voice was as calm as ever. “Auditions are excellent practice. Next time, however, please give me more advance notice if you have a conflict with a NYADA obligation, even one that doesn’t count for a grade.”

Cora plopped down right next to Kurt, despite the presence of dozens of empty chairs. Right, he thought, we’re friends now. Try not to snap at this one today, too. He took a breath and tried to speak normally. “Cora, I’m curious. Who told you I was auditioning for Pippin?” 

Cora looked at him quizzically. “What, is it a secret? Sam told me.” She scooted in closer, and whispered conspiratorially, “You know, until this weekend, I was worried that Sam had a crush on your boyfriend. Crazy, right?”

Kurt ignored this comment – he didn’t have time now to get into the intricacies of Blam. He had bigger things to worry about today. He scrubbed at his face and tried to focus. He wasn’t sure at what point Blaine had talked to Sam, and what he had told him. Had Blaine really thought that Kurt was going to the audition and breaking up with him? That was just insane. He thought back to the conversation with his dad, trying to imagine how Blaine could have gotten that message from what he said. He supposed it was possible, especially if he hadn’t heard the whole conversation. He was worried about what was going to happen when they both went back to having classes full time, and all the other pressures that the fall would bring. But how could Blaine believe he didn’t want him, when everything had been going so well? Didn’t he trust him? 

Now Kurt had yet another problem. Madame Tibideaux thought he was going to the Pippin audition, approved of him going, and didn’t even mind that it conflicted with their performance. Would it look strange to back out now? Would she think less of him for it?

\----------

It was Tuesday afternoon, and Blaine and Sam were at NYADA, waiting for the show to start. They obviously weren’t part of NYADA’s freshman orientation, but Rachel was performing, and had asked them to come. At least this auditorium was less intimidating than the round room, and there were plenty of corners for Blaine to hide in. He tugged distractedly on his plaid bowtie until Sam slapped his hand away. “Stop fidgeting, man. You’re making me nervous.”

The last few days had been confusing. Kurt hadn’t called him Sunday night, which was fine. Blaine understood how Kurt could get when he was upset, and although he didn’t like it, he knew that it usually didn’t mean anything dire. But then it turned out Kurt really was auditioning, after insisting to Blaine that he wasn’t going to. The fact that Blaine had only learned this through Cora, who came over Monday night and spent almost an hour telling Sam and Blaine about every moment of her audition as well as Kurt’s, kind of hurt. Did it mean Kurt had changed his mind about whether he could be in a relationship and a Broadway show at the same time, or had he changed his mind about his priorities? Was he so annoyed with him about their fight that he decided to do a show after all, and break up with Blaine? He really didn’t think so, but it would be awfully nice if Kurt could let him know what was going on.

Before Blaine went to sleep Monday night, when Kurt still hadn’t contacted him, Blaine caved again and sent him a text. He wasn’t going to bother him all day long like he had on Sunday, but he had to say something. Blaine deserved a voice in how this all turned out, and he wanted to make sure Kurt knew his position loud and clear.

**From Blaine: Have faith in us. I do.**

Whatever happened, he wasn’t letting Kurt give up on them. Kurt had convinced him to give this a try back in June, when Blaine had worried that Kurt wouldn’t want him in his still wobbly state. Kurt had asked Blaine to give him a chance, and he had. Now he needed Kurt to do the same. It didn’t matter if real life was busier than their laid back summer, Blaine knew they could make it work.

The lights flickered and everyone took their seats. Madame Tibideaux came out and said a few words about the vocal performance and musical theater departments, then introduced a few other professors, who each had something to say about their areas of expertise. Blaine noticed Sam’s head drooping and bumped his shoulder against him. “Sam,” he hissed. “Wake up.”

“Sorry, man. It’s nice and dark in here. Just like that art class we took.” Sam and Blaine had signed up for a course on the history of the portrait as a way to fill an arts requirement, but a huge overheated lecture class where the majority of time was spent with the lights off, gazing at pictures on a screen that seemed far, far away, had been a recipe for disaster for both of them. Luckily they could view all of the artwork online, so even though they slept through most of the lectures, they did okay.

Finally the curtains opened and a spotlight shone on the first performer, his back to the audience, the shadow of his top hat stretching out along the stage. The music started up and the man slowly turned around as he began to sing.

_Willkommen, bienvenue, welcome!_   
_Fremde, etranger, stranger._   
_Gluklich zu sehen, je suis enchante,_   
_Happy to see you, bleibe, reste, stay._

It was Kurt, and not surprisingly, he was fantastic. He sang the part of the emcee with just the right amount of strange, a hint of something wrong, of a welcome for perhaps the wrong reasons. What was surprising, however, was that Kurt was on the stage today at all.

“Hey, I thought Kurt wasn’t going to be here?” Sam whispered to Blaine, echoing his own thoughts. Blaine didn’t know what to think. Did Kurt change his mind again? Did he blow off the callback? He tried to just enjoy Kurt’s performance, but as the number went on, he became more and more uncomfortable.

_Leave your troubles outside!_   
_So - life is disappointing? Forget it!_   
_We have no troubles here! Here life is beautiful..._   
_The girls are beautiful..._   
_Even the orchestra is beautiful!_

When the Kit Kat girls and boys came out, his unease continued to grow. Of course Rachel was Sally Bowles, and she looked lovely in a slightly seedy way, as was appropriate for the part. But seeing Kurt in this role right now, flippantly making coarse jokes, was just weird. _Cabaret_ was all about the stealthy approach of evil. The whole number made his stomach turn.

Of course, that was the point. As the show went on, it seemed that Madame Tibideaux’s theme was to explore the various emotions that musical theater could provoke, with a focus on the uncomfortable and nerve-wracking. This was no fluffy, feel good production. There was little mention of love in this performance, unless you counted the disturbing “There’s No Place Like London” from _Sweeney Todd,_ which made Sam squirm in his seat. Even the finale – one of the only moderately upbeat numbers - was a salute to the uncertainties of a life as an actor, with the group singing “I Hope I Get It” from _A Chorus Line._

After the curtain closed, Blaine and Sam remained in their seats. Sam gave Blaine a questioning look, but he couldn’t come up with anything to say. “We should wait for Rachel, right?” Sam asked. Blaine nodded, and Sam put his arm around Blaine, pulling him over until Blaine rested his head on Sam’s shoulder. Maybe Kurt would come out too, or maybe he wouldn’t. Blaine couldn’t guess anymore. He was just going to wait.

Rachel bounced over and Blaine and Sam got up to greet her. She excitedly pulled them both into a big hug, throwing Blaine off balance. Rachel still hadn’t seemed to catch on to the fact that launching herself at Blaine was a bad idea. “Thank you so much for coming, guys! I thought the first number went really well, even though we just learned the choreography on Sunday. Not everyone can pick it up as quickly as I can, but this time I think it worked. Did you like my solo? I’m thinking of adding it to my repertoire, it might make a good audition song. Then again it was a little depressing, and that’s probably not the right feeling for an audition song, you don’t want the director to feel sad when he thinks of you…”

Blaine stopped trying to follow what Rachel was saying as he saw Kurt coming through the crowd towards them, his face still shiny from washing off his stage makeup. Kurt came right over to Blaine, ignoring Rachel completely. “Hi,” Kurt said, the color of his eyes intensified by the royal blue sweater he had on. “Before you say anything, I have a proposition for you.” He looked uncertain, as if Blaine was going to reject his request outright.

“What is it?” Blaine’s heart was thumping in his chest.

“Come back to my place. I promise I’m done being cryptic.” Kurt stepped closer and stared right into Blaine’s eyes, placing a gentle hand on his arm. “I want to get under the covers with you and hold you close and tell you everything.”

Blaine took a deep breath. “Okay.” Kurt wanted to be with him, that had to be a good sign. He glanced at Sam, who was still standing beside him, a steadying hand on his back. 

“It’s cool, dude, go ahead. After that show I’d like to crawl under the covers too.”

They were spared the awkward walk back to Kurt’s apartment when Nate offered them a ride in the cab he was taking uptown. Nate seemed a little confused by their subdued mood, but the drive was short and soon enough they were at Kurt’s building, Kurt digging his keys out of his pocket. “Did you leave your bag at school?” Blaine had just now realized Kurt wasn’t carrying anything.

“I’ll get it tomorrow. I just wanted to get home with you.” Kurt got the door open and led Blaine inside, straight back to his bedroom. He glanced quickly at Blaine, and then proceeded to pull off his sweater. “I wasn’t kidding about getting under the covers,” he said softly, taking a pile of pajamas out of a drawer. “You don’t have to change if you don’t want to.”

Blaine almost didn’t, reluctant to give up the security of his buttoned up shirt and tightly fastened bowtie, but the appeal of cuddling up to Kurt with only soft t-shirts between them won out. He took a shirt and pants from the pile Kurt offered him and went to the bathroom to change. Blaine felt his hands shaking as he tried to cajole his hair into submission. He had to calm down. Whatever Kurt had to say, it couldn’t be that bad, not unless he had developed a strange cruel streak and was intending to break up with him and then kick him out onto the street in his bare feet and pajamas.

Kurt was in bed when Blaine came back into the room. He held the edge of the blanket up. “Come here.” Blaine slid under the covers, and as he was pondering the appropriate amount of space to leave between them for this bizarre conversation, Kurt wrapped his arms around him and pulled him tight against him. Kurt put a hand to Blaine’s head and laced his fingers through his curls, and settled the other warm against his lower back. Blaine snuggled into Kurt’s neck, feeling himself relax as Kurt stroked and soothed him. 

“I’m sorry I’ve been so weird the past few days,” Kurt said quietly. “I’d like to try to explain.” Blaine nodded against Kurt’s chest, and he continued. “Thinking about the Pippin audition really threw me for a loop. I was kind of freaking out about it even before you said anything to me. It brought up a lot of issues that I had been avoiding. Then when I couldn’t make you understand, it made me question whether I was making the right decision, and whether we were even on the same page regardless of what choice I made.”

Blaine’s breath hitched but Kurt kept on talking, rubbing his back as he spoke. Blaine tried to accept the comfort of his touch, and really listen this time.

“I know I shouldn’t have left in the middle of the conversation. But the things that were coming out of my mouth frightened me. I know you’re on my side, I swear I do. But I was so confused, and I didn’t want to make it worse. I had convinced myself that I lost touch with everyone last year because being in a Broadway show while going to NYADA full time was too much for me, and that if I tried it again, I would lose you. Now that I have you back again, and Rachel, and some semblance of a social life, I don’t want to do anything that could endanger that. Endanger us. This is too good, Blaine.” Kurt pressed a kiss to his cheek, and Blaine hummed in response. “But it turned out I had already fucked up, because I said something that make you think I was going to break up with you, which I never intended to do.” Kurt paused and pulled back, turning until he caught Blaine’s eyes. “Never. You get that now, right?”

Blaine nodded, his heart in his throat.

“So, I guess I just got scared when we started arguing. I didn’t want to open my mouth again and make it worse. Then you sent me all those texts on Sunday, still talking to me even though I was being stupid. Still insisting that I loved performing, which I _obviously_ do, even though I yelled at you when you said it – which I’m sorry for, by the way. Even when I didn’t call you, you still insisted you had faith in us. Anyway, everything you said made me really stop and think. And I may have realized something pretty important.” Kurt took a breath, and tilted his head back to look at Blaine. “I got the causation backwards.”

“What do you mean?” Blaine shifted, sliding on to his side so he could see Kurt better, and taking his hand in his. Kurt squeezed back, looking down at where their fingers were laced together, Blaine’s thumb rubbing against his palm.

“Performing didn’t make me unhappy. It was the other way around. I threw too much of myself into work and school because I was so unhappy. None of that was going to fix the fact that Finn was gone, that my dad was sick, and that we were over.” Kurt blinked and swallowed hard. “But at least if I scheduled myself into being busy eighteen hours a day there wasn’t much time left to think about it. Of course, that just made it worse, because then I didn’t have any time to try to stay connected with anyone, which might have helped with the whole unhappiness thing. But it wasn’t performing that made me unhappy, it’s just that it wasn’t going to magically heal me, either.” Kurt sighed, frowning a little at the thought.

“And now?”

“Honestly, I still think being in a full fledged Broadway production and going to school full time is ridiculous. I’ve only got one year left at NYADA, and I’d like to make the most of it. And finish on time, not stretch it out any further.”

Even if this was reasonable, Blaine thought, it still didn’t explain everything. “Then why did you audition for Pippin?”

Kurt huffed out a laugh. “Cora told Madame Tibideaux we were both auditioning, and her response was that it was good experience. So I felt like I had to go through with it. That’s mostly why I couldn’t call you yesterday. What I was doing didn’t even make sense to me, I had no idea how to explain it to you.”

Blaine considered this. He was certainly familiar with the feeling that his life wasn’t making any sense. “But you didn’t go to the callback today.”

Kurt smiled wryly, his foot finding Blaine’s under the covers and poking him with a cold toe. “I didn’t get a callback. Ironic, isn’t it?”

“Kurt, I’m so sorry,” Blaine began, but Kurt interrupted him. 

“No, don’t be. I knew after the audition that I wasn’t who they were looking for. The members of the Pippin ensemble need to be real acrobats who can sing, not singers who can do a little amateur acrobatics.”

“What about Cora?”

“She got a callback, but I’d be surprised if she gets the part. But who knows, she was actually pretty good on the trapeze.”

“I wish I could have seen you on the trapeze,” Blaine mumbled, then blushed when he realized what he had said. 

Kurt just giggled. “What, my performance today didn’t turn you on?”

“Ugh, no. You were great, but it really creeped me out.” Blaine was pretty sure he could go the rest of his life without seeing Kurt perform as the emcee again.

“Yeah. Carmen’s muse took a weird turn. She’s going to give the freshmen nightmares before they even get started.”

“Makes me feel kind of stupid for singing love songs at that Wednesday night concert. She must be wondering why she even asked me to perform.” Blaine couldn’t help but feel that his song choices were a bit less sophisticated than the angst ridden numbers he had witnessed this afternoon.

“Are you kidding?” Kurt brushed a curl off his forehead, and gazed into his eyes, making his heart skip a beat. “You were amazing. She let you into her class again next semester, didn’t she?”

Blaine nodded.

“Then she obviously thinks you have talent. Which you do.”

Blaine took a deep breath, not ready to fully change the subject yet, despite how nice it felt to hear Kurt praise him. “So, my slightly creepy star, where does this leave us?”

Kurt smiled. “I suppose ‘in bed’ isn’t the answer you’re looking for?”

Blaine smiled back and shook his head. “Nope. Although this was a good idea.” He ran his hand up and down Kurt’s arm, feeling his muscles move under his warm skin. “Is it weird that I always feel better when I’m touching you?”

“Um, no. If you haven’t noticed, I feel the same. Why do you think I wanted us to talk this way?” Kurt snuggled closer, pushing Blaine on to his back and resting his head on his shoulder. “Plus if we ever finish this conversation, we’ll be well placed for make up sex.”

Blaine laughed and tried to kiss Kurt, but Kurt moved at the same time and it didn’t quite work, the kiss landing on his chin instead. This just made them both laugh, and the fact that Kurt started tickling his ribs didn’t help either.

“Hey, wait a minute,” Blaine said, finally capturing Kurt’s hand and catching his breath. “Stop distracting me.”

Kurt sighed, but then settled down, propping himself on an elbow so he could look at Blaine. “You’re right.” Blaine braced himself, a little bit worried as a serious look came over Kurt’s face. “Here’s the thing. I told you that you could rely on me, and then I made you doubt me. I didn’t mean to, but I’m still sorry. I never want you to doubt me. And I’m not going to do anything that puts us in jeopardy.”

Blaine heart warmed to hear this, but he still thought Kurt was selling them short. “Just because we’re together doesn’t mean you should have to turn down opportunities to nuture your inner star, Kurt. What we have is real, and getting stronger all the time. Maybe this whole thing is just a reminder to us both that we can trust what we have.” Blaine ran a finger down Kurt’s chest, poking him a little for emphasis. “You shouldn’t be worried that you’re going to lose me if you get busy for a while. This summer has been beyond wonderful, with so much free time to spend together. But we’ll make it work when reality sets back in, too, no matter what that means – school, or shows, or jobs, or all three. Who knows, an opportunity might come along that’s too good to pass up, and you should be able to take it.”

Kurt shook his head. “I appreciate what you’re saying, and I’m willing to make exceptions, but I still think there’s a limit. There are only so many hours in a day, and I want to be able to spend some of them with you. Lots of them, even. How can that be wrong?”

Blaine bit his lip. “Okay, when you put it that way, it doesn’t sound wrong. I guess I have to trust you to make your own decisions on this one, huh.” Blaine grinned. “Plus, if I get into Mass Transit, I want you to have enough free time to come to my concerts.”

“Wait, you auditioned for an a cappella group?”

“NYU’s oldest all male ensemble. I’ve got a callback Thursday night.”

“Blaine!” Kurt grabbed him into a tight hug. “You’re going to be a Warbler again!”

“Let’s not count our songbirds before they’re hatched,” Blaine mumbled, his face pressed into Kurt’s shoulder. “But yeah, I really hope so.”

“What made you change your mind about trying out?” Kurt released his hold, but kept his hands clasped to Blaine’s shoulders.

“I guess I realized it was a little hypocritical of me to be angry that you weren’t following through on your dreams, when I was doing the same thing.” Blaine raised his head and looked shyly up at Kurt. “You make me feel like I can do anything, Kurt. Like the things that have happened to me don’t have to hold me back anymore. Like I can be the person I always wanted to be.”

“You make me feel that way too. You give me courage,” Kurt smiled broadly at him, as they both remembered that message from years ago. “You always have.” Kurt nuzzled up against Blaine and then huffed out a laugh. “ _Our_ living room.”

“What?”

“When you were texting me on Sunday, you said I’d always be a star, whether it’s at NYADA, or on Broadway, or just in our living room.”

“And?”

“How can you be so sure that we’re going to have a living room? That we’re going to make it this time?”

Blaine grinned. “We’re soulmates, Kurt. I just know.” He pressed a soft kiss to Kurt’s mouth, lingering against him as he continued. “Or, if you prefer, third time’s the charm. Either way, I’m never letting you go.”

As they lay there exchanging gentle kisses, knowing they had time to just enjoy each other, and that more heated touches were sure to follow, Blaine found himself thinking back to that day in June when he had run into Kurt at the hospital, so excited that he practically floated all the way home. So much had changed since then, for him and for Kurt. But the feeling in his gut that day, that seeing Kurt again had to be a good thing, no matter how confusing or awkward, had turned out to be true. Having Kurt in his life again was like the sun coming up on a new day. Somehow their reunion had given them each the opportunity to shine a warming light on all of their hurts, to heal together, and to start to grow together into something stronger. Maybe what the two of them had with each other had started out as just a teenage dream, but Blaine felt sure that if they just kept going like this – communicating through words and touch and song, no matter how hard it was sometimes – they could make that dream a reality.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it... just the epilogue left. Thank you so much for reading!


	35. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> AU after 5x02. When the New Directions’ bus crashes before Nationals, Finn is killed and Blaine is badly injured. Grieving and damaged, Kurt and Blaine call off their engagement. Two years after the tragedy, they run into each other in New York City. Klaine; Blam friendship.
> 
> Warnings for past character death (Finn), discussion of depression, injuries.

“So we’ve got an anniversary coming up, and I thought we should do something special,” Kurt said, precariously balancing a bowl of popcorn and two sodas as he came to join Blaine on the couch.

“What, movie night isn’t special?” Blaine joked, taking the sodas out of Kurt’s hands and placing them on the tray on the ottoman. 

“Of course it is, sweetie. Every night is special with you,” Kurt said, exaggeratedly sappy, as he curled up against Blaine, rubbing his face against the soft nub of his sweater. “It’s true, you know,” he whispered into Blaine’s ear, making him squirm.

“I know.” Blaine set the popcorn aside and took Kurt into his arms, the discussion of a night out momentarily forgotten as he pressed popcorn flavored kisses into his lips. “Actually,” Blaine said, pulling back, “tonight’s an anniversary too. The six month anniversary of our Reunion Day.”

“Reunion Day?”

“Yeah. That’s what we should call the day you saw me singing at the hospital.” Blaine took Kurt’s hand and rubbed his thumb against his palm. 

“So between that and our six month anniversary of being boyfriends again, we definitely deserve a night out,” Kurt repeated.

“I agree. I actually had something in mind, if you’re interested.” Kurt gave Blaine an inquiring look, and he continued. “I want to go dancing with you,” Blaine said shyly.

“Yeah?” Kurt flashed back to a slow dance with Blaine last summer at a NYADA fundraiser, Blaine flushed with embarrassment about his leg, but pushing through it anyway to stand and sway with Kurt. “Too bad I can’t waltz with you,” Blaine had confessed sadly then. How far he’d come, his brave beau.

“Yeah. Sam and Cora went to this place a few weeks ago,” Blaine pulled out his phone and scrolled to the page. “It might be fun.”

Blaine had clearly given this some thought. “I think it sounds perfect,” Kurt said, leaning in to kiss Blaine again. 

Kurt really couldn’t believe it had been six months since he ran into Blaine at the hospital; the time had gone so fast. Especially when school started up again, and they both got busy, it seemed that one weekend followed the next with astonishing speed. They had worked hard to carve out time to spend together regardless of their other commitments, and trusted in themselves to make it through the times when texts and phone calls had to take the place of cozy dinners and sleepovers. 

Kurt knew that the honeymoon period was supposed to be over, but sometimes he wondered if with Blaine, it ever would be. He still got a thrill whenever Blaine walked into a room, his beautiful brown eyes searching him out and sparkling with happiness to see him. His heart beat faster when Blaine took his hand, whether they were snuggled up against each other in bed or just having coffee together at Layla’s. 

The fall had also brought both of them plenty of opportunities to do what they loved. Now that Kurt had a better understanding of what went wrong for him in the past, he could throw himself into his NYADA work wholeheartedly, and just let himself enjoy it. He was selected to be the creative director for the freshman musical, and although it kept him up at night, worrying about whether the kids could pull it off, he was having the time of his life. He had a lead in the fall play, and was doing a master class with one of his favorite actors. And Blaine was performing, both in his class with Madame Tibideaux and in his a capella group. Kurt was so proud of Blaine when he stood in front of an audience and sang his heart out, his face always a glowing combination of excitement and shy pride when he caught Kurt gazing over at him. His a capella group’s first major concert of the year had been just before Thanksgiving when they performed with two of NYU’s other ensembles, including the co-ed group Marley sang in. The hall had been packed, with Kurt, Sam, Cora and Rachel cheering Blaine and Marley on from the front row. Blaine had arranged three of the group’s seven numbers, and had a solo, too, a rare thing for a new group member. The group didn’t do much in the way of choreography, although Kurt privately thought Blaine would likely try to change that as he grew more confident. As it was, he performed without using his cane, holding himself carefully, resting a hand on the shoulder or the arm of the student next to him from time to time. He only wobbled seriously once, when the members rearranged themselves between songs, and the man at his side quickly reached out and held his elbow until he steadied. It didn’t seem to faze Blaine in the least, as he grinned and accepted the touch, quickly returning his focus to their next number. Kurt had been sitting next to Sam at the time, and Sam’s relieved whisper of “atta boy, Blaine,” had made Kurt once again grateful for the way Sam cared for Blaine.

Blaine and Sam were navigating their second year together in the city well, although Kurt thought the intensity of their relationship had abated somewhat with the addition of Cora, Rachel, and of course Kurt to their social circle, as well as Marley, and to a lesser extent the members of Blaine’s a capella group, and other NYADA friends of Cora’s. He didn’t think this was a bad thing, although Blaine and Sam still seemed to have a little bit of separation anxiety from time to time, which generally resulted in a Blam movie night to restore balance to the force. All in all, life was remarkably good.

\----------

The Saturday night Blaine and Kurt had chosen for their anniversary celebration was cold and blustery. Blaine and Kurt were both excited, however, and chatted happily together as they made their way down the windy streets, Blaine’s arm tightly curled around Kurt’s, with Kurt’s scarf whipping around them whenever the wind gusted. 

Blaine was a little nervous about their plans for tonight, even though it had been his idea. His injury had taken so many things away from him, and the pure physical pleasure of dancing was one of them. It had been two and a half years since the accident, and he still wasn’t fully recovered, although he continued to make slow progress. The surgery this past summer had in fact done quite a lot to reduce his pain, although the stiffness in his thigh muscles and resulting challenges with balance remained, and might never go away completely. But he was dying to go dancing with Kurt, to let the music fill them and spin them around, and although it might not go exactly according to plan, he wanted to give it a try.

They finally reached the club, and gratefully went inside. Kurt frowned when he saw his reflection in a mirror, dismayed at what the wind had done to his hair, but when he saw Blaine watching him he just made a face. “You look gorgeous,” Blaine whispered in his ear as Kurt took his arm, leading them down the hall. Sometimes Blaine still couldn’t believe that he and Kurt were back together. They weren’t the same couple they had been before the accident, and when he was honest with himself, this was a good thing. Back then their relationship was based on a high school romance and heartfelt wishes for the future. The accident had torn them apart, but when they finally reunited, they had done so with care, examining their weak spots as well as their strengths. Blaine thought they both not only understood each other better than they had before, but they had more patience for the other’s flaws. When Kurt withdrew, Blaine gave him space, confident that when he was ready, Kurt would tell him what was wrong. Kurt understood that sometimes Blaine’s insecurities still got the best of him, and didn’t take it personally if he needed some extra reassurance sometimes. There was no doubt in Blaine’s mind that their relationship was stronger now than it had ever been before. 

The music was loud inside the club, not surprisingly, and it immediately thrummed its way into Blaine’s body, making him bounce with excitement as they found a small table near the dance floor. Kurt left for a minute and returned with some brightly colored rum punch drinks, which Blaine gratefully accepted. They sipped at their drinks for a while, free hands clasped on top of the table, elbows knocking together. Kurt really looked amazing tonight, Blaine thought, with a snug black vest over a dark purple shirt, open at the top, with his long neck uncharacteristically bare and tempting. Blaine had sort of chickened out when it came to getting dressed for the evening, finally settling on a teal button-up with a barely visible pattern running through it and gold jeans that he knew Kurt loved, along with a yellow and gray bowtie. Sam had teased him when he put it on – you’re going to be dancing, Blaine, don’t you want to be able to breathe? – but Blaine loved when Kurt pulled his bowties off at the end of the night, the silk sliding through his collar, Kurt’s eyes flashing blue with arousal. Overall, Blaine had been trying to balance looking good for his boyfriend with not drawing too much attention to what were bound to be his somewhat awkward moves on the dance floor, but he realized with a smile that with Kurt at his side, attention would find them regardless of his own attire. 

Blaine observed the crowd as they finished up their drinks. As Sam had predicted, it was a mix of gay and straight couples, along with some groups dancing together in no particular combinations. It didn’t seem to be as much of a pick-up scene as some of the other places Cora had told him about when he quizzed her a few weeks ago, trying to find a good place for their anniversary celebration. He noticed Kurt finishing his drink, and braced himself for what was certain to come next. He grinned when Kurt stood up and offered his hand to Blaine. “May I have this dance?”

“It would be my pleasure.” He left his cane hooked over the back of his chair as they made their way on to the dance floor, relying on Kurt to keep him steady. A slow number was playing, and they wrapped themselves around each other and swayed gently. 

“How’s your leg tonight?” Kurt asked. “Just so I know what to expect.”

“What to expect?” Blaine replied, confused.

“Yeah, you know, dancing with wild and reckless abandon, or sedate swaying. Or something in between.”

God, he loved Kurt. “Something in between, I think.”

“Sounds good.” Kurt pulled Blaine in close and nuzzled his cheek. “You’ll let me know if it hurts, though, right?”

“I will.” And he would. Because Blaine had found that letting Kurt know when he was hurting didn’t make Kurt back away, as he had once feared. Instead, Kurt time and again just came closer, wanting to soothe away his pain. If nothing else the past six months had shown him how strong Kurt had become, how determined he was now to face not only his own fears, but to help Blaine face his as well. Kurt had told Blaine before his surgery this summer that he could rely on him, and Blaine was learning that he could. He tried his best to show Kurt that he could be trusted, too. All of it was scary, but so far, worth every moment.

The next number was a fast song, and Blaine experimentally put a little space between them, hands still on Kurt’s shoulders. He began to move to the music, letting it flow through him, thankful for the little bit of alcohol that took the edge off of his self-consciousness. Kurt was smiling at him, one hand reassuringly at his waist, the other roaming up over his body. After a few minutes Kurt took one of Blaine’s hands off his shoulder and twined it together with his own. He spun Blaine around, catching him when he wobbled, and laughing happily into his ear. “You look beautiful tonight,” Kurt said breathily, pulling Blaine in close again. “I’m so glad we’re here together.”

Blaine’s heart swelled at Kurt’s declaration. “Me too.” He pressed a little kiss into Kurt’s neck, and then Kurt spun them around again, Blaine dizzy with happiness.

Later, when Blaine stumbled several times in a row, Kurt turned him so that his back was pressed up against Kurt, Kurt’s arms wrapped around his waist and chest. “Relax, baby,” Kurt whispered in his ear, his head over Blaine’s shoulder, his cheek up against his. “I’ve got you.” Blaine let one of his hands reach up and around to the back of Kurt’s neck, feeling exposed even in the darkness of the nightclub, but so thoroughly enjoying himself that there was no way he was going to put a stop to it. The way Kurt was pressing kisses under his jaw and moving his hand over his chest was quickly reducing Blaine to a whimpering mess, and from what Blaine could tell from where his ass was pressed back against Kurt, Kurt was enjoying himself as well. After this exquisite torture had gone on for a while, Kurt turned Blaine back to face him again, and Blaine wrapped himself tightly around Kurt, practically panting. 

“Unless we want to go home right now, I think we need to take a break,” Blaine suggested, and Kurt smirked, giving Blaine’s ass a quick squeeze as he nodded his agreement. They made their way back over to their table and had a few more drinks, Blaine leaning up against Kurt while Kurt lazily played with the curls at the back of his head. 

“You like it better without the gel, don’t you?” Blaine asked.

“I like it both ways,” Kurt said diplomatically.

Blaine raised his eyebrow at him. “Be honest.”

“Fine. I like it better without the gel.”

“Why didn’t you ever tell me?” Blaine asked. He had spent so much time taming his curls in high school, despite the occasional “gel helmet” digs, thinking that it was somehow making him look objectively better. 

“You looked perfectly handsome with the gel. And you seemed to need it.”

“Maybe I did.” Kurt knew him so well, even back then. His hand strayed to his bowtie. “Sam teased me for wearing this tonight, said it was too much for dancing.”

“Sam clearly misunderstands the point of fashion. Plus, we’ve danced with bowties on millions of times.”

“Want to know why I kept it on?” 

“Why?”

Blaine leaned in close and whispered into Kurt’s ear. “So you could take it off later.”

Kurt looked at Blaine as his mouth dropped open. “I didn’t realize you noticed how much I like to do that,” he said, eyes glazing over.

Blaine smiled, thinking about how Kurt got when he was turned on, when they were alone and it was safe for him to let go. Often times Kurt could be hard to read, but not then. “Come on,” Blaine said, standing up and putting his hand out for Kurt. “Let’s dance some more before we get distracted again.”

“Footloose” was playing, and Blaine bopped around for a few minutes, trying to make his feet move the way he wanted them to, then gave up, flopping against Kurt. “I’m worse than Sam.”

“What do you mean?”

“We did a routine to ‘Footloose’ in Glee senior year, and for the life of him, Sam couldn’t get it right. He kicked me so many times I had bruises.”

“You’ve gotten so much better, though. And you’re still improving.” Kurt said, rubbing his back comfortingly.

“I know.” Blaine sighed, and laid his head on Kurt’s shoulder. “I might not ever be like I was before, though.”

“How you do feel about that?” Kurt asked, when Blaine didn’t go on.

“Surprisingly, not as bad as you’d think. I mean, given that at one point I thought I’d never be able to walk again, this is pretty damn good.” Blaine took Kurt’s hand and spun them around together for a minute. “I mean, it’s not perfect, but I think it’s workable.”

“Me too,” Kurt said, giving Blaine a kiss and pulling him closer again. “You know, I’ll never be like I was before, either,” Kurt said seriously. “I think that’s kind of what life does to you.”

Blaine smiled. “You’re right. And this life is pretty amazing.” He squeezed Kurt tighter and rested their foreheads together. “Happy six month anniversary,” he said, barely moving his face away from Kurt’s.

Blaine could feel Kurt smiling as he replied. “Happy anniversary to you, too.” Kurt shifted until he caught Blaine’s eyes, suddenly looking shy. “I, um, I brought something to show you.”

Blaine glanced over at their table, confused. “Where?”

“In my pocket.”

Blaine grinned. “Are we playing the riddle game?” he asked, thinking of the Hobbit. 

Kurt blushed and ducked his head down. “I didn’t think you’d guess so fast.”

“Kurt?” Blaine was confused, but reached around to Kurt’s ass and slid his fingers into one of his back pockets, pressing himself tightly against Kurt as he did. He could feel Kurt’s breath coming faster as he curled around him. The first pocket he tried was empty, but when he poked into the second one, he felt cool metal. Their ring. Blaine carefully pulled it out and brought it around in front of them, letting the light catch it.

“Not for now,” Kurt said, his hand wrapping around Blaine’s. “But I wanted you to know that someday, I’m going to give it to you.”

“Give it back?” That wasn’t what Blaine was expecting to hear, and from Kurt’s expression he knew that’s not what he meant.

“No, my oblivious love. Give it to you to wear. It’s your turn. And that way all those fawning a capella fans of yours will know you’re mine.”

“But it’s yours,” Blaine protested.

“It’s ours.” Kurt said. “It doesn’t matter which one of us is wearing it, or whether either of us is wearing it at all. It means that we belong together.” Kurt took the ring and gave it a little kiss, then held it to Blaine’s lips for him to do the same. Blaine felt his heart fluttering in his chest, remembering how he used to kiss the ring when it was on Kurt’s hand, the metal warmed by his body. 

Blaine cleared his throat around the lump that was forming there. “So what has it been doing the past few years?” 

“Waiting,” Kurt said, an uncharacteristically silly smile on his face.

“The ring was waiting?”

“Yup. It knew it was only a matter of time.”

“So you don’t believe in soulmates, but the ring does?” Blaine asked, twirling it around in his fingers.

“Obviously,” Kurt answered. He reached to pluck it away from Blaine just as a passing waiter bumped into his shoulder, and the ring clattered to the ground. “Shit!” Luckily it hadn’t gone far, and after a minute of frantic searching in between the feet of the other people on the dance floor, Kurt had it back. Blaine was giggling helplessly as Kurt pulled them over to their table, examining the ring for damage. “Frisky ring,” he muttered. “It better not be sticky.”

“Here,” Blaine said, shifting in his chair as he tugged a handkerchief out of his pocket. “I was going to give this to you tonight anyway.” Kurt took the white square from him and unfolded it, seeing embroidered words running all along its borders. 

“Blaine,” Kurt said, his eyes wide. “I thought we said no gifts.”

“Then think of it as a loan. To keep our ring safe, until we’re ready for it.”

Kurt spread the handkerchief out, turning it as he read. “Doubt thou the stars are fire, doubt that the sun does move. Doubt truth to be a liar, but never doubt I love.” He looked up at Blaine, his eyes wide and shining. “This is beautiful. It must have taken you forever.”

Blaine laughed. “Yeah, it kind of did. The quote is from Hamlet. It’s actually been set to music – I think I sang it in choir in middle school, and I never forgot it.”

Kurt reverently wrapped the ring up in the embroidered cloth and tucked it back in his pocket, then pulled Blaine in for a hard, searing kiss. “I still don’t know if I believe in soulmates,” Kurt said, his head nestled up against Blaine’s, his breath warm on his neck. “But I believe in us.” 

“I believe in us too.” Blaine sat back and ran his finger across Kurt’s cheek. “I love you like crazy, you know that?”

Kurt smiled, hearing one of his favorite phrases come out of Blaine’s mouth. “I love you like crazy, too.” He stood and offered Blaine his hand.

Blaine hesitated. “Kurt, I really don’t think I have any more dancing in me tonight.” He had been having a fantastic time, but his leg was starting to ache.

“I actually had a different type of dance in mind,” Kurt said with a mischievous look on his face. “Although, if you’re too tired…”

Blaine grabbed Kurt’s hand and popped out of his seat, grabbing his cane on the way. “Nope, not too tired. Wide awake, in fact.”

“That’s what I thought.”

As they made their way out of the club, Blaine rested his hand over Kurt’s back pocket, wondering how he could have missed the ring hidden in there before. He ran his fingers over where it was tucked inside, causing Kurt to squirm. “This is going to give you weird associations with my ass from now on, isn’t it,” Kurt commented. 

Blaine laughed. “I don’t think I could love you – or your ass – any more than I already do. But don’t tell Sam about this, or he’ll find a way to work it into his best man speech.”

“Still think Sam will be your best man?” Kurt asked, grinning. “It’s not like you guys are that close anymore.”

“Very funny.” 

They were chilled to the bone by the time they made it back to Kurt’s apartment, and made fast work of shedding their clothes and diving under the blankets, Kurt pausing only to place the ring and its wrapping in the bottom drawer of his jewelry box. They snuggled up together, cold toes pressed against calves, arms holding each other close. “How did we get so lucky,” Kurt murmured, rubbing his nose against Blaine’s.

“Wonder of wonder, miracle of miracles,” Blaine hummed. Whether or not Kurt believed in soulmates didn’t matter. Despite tragedy and distance, despite fears and doubts, something had brought them together again. And this time, Blaine didn’t think anything could pull them apart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for coming along on this journey with me. I hope you enjoyed it nearly as much as I enjoyed writing it. Please leave a comment and let me know - your comments mean more than I can say. And if you are on Tumblr, stop by and say hi (I'm flowerfan2 there).


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